


Wrongdoings and Misunderstandings

by karmagician1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Corruption, Dog Fighting, Friends with occasional benefits, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Miscommunication, Omega Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Slavery, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 73,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmagician1/pseuds/karmagician1
Summary: After years of living alone on his Ranch, Dean finds himself in need of an Omega pet for company and to subsequently help with his ruts. Knowing he can’t afford the high prices of a pedigree Omega, he settles on buying an Omega fight dog from an illegal auction. Fight dogs come with their disadvantages but are considerably cheaper.To Dean's dismay, the Omega he bought proves to be unruly and difficult, and instead of providing the warmth and comfort Dean wanted, he's soon used as a  way for Dean to vent his anger and frustration.Eventually Dean finds out that all isn’t what it seems.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 166
Kudos: 381





	1. Uncertainty at Auction

**Author's Note:**

> AU: Omega's are intelligent, however they are seen as the lesser gender by society and ultimately treated like animals by Alpha's and Betas alike.

Only after their tickets were scrutinized and a thorough pat down by two burly men standing guard; which was far more personal for Dean’s liking, were they granted entrance into the impressively large building. Dean idly wondered if the place was an abandoned factory. 

The impression immediately turned to disgust at the threshold when the stench of piss, sweat and blood nearly knocked Dean off of his feet. The odour dwindled his simmering excitement and only served as a reminder that he really did not want to be there. Wasn’t even sure why he’d agreed to be there. All he knew was his friend Benny, who had accompanied him, had strong powers of persuasion. 

Ultimately Dean knew it wasn’t only Benny’s persuasion, but his own loneliness that had allowed him to drift through the doors of an underground dog fighting establishment. Dean, an Alpha who had enjoyed his solace for the past nine years, had decided it was time to allow his space to be filled with the warmth of an Omega pet. Although that warmth would come at a price. Top Omega breeds were incredibly expensive, and most breeders were reluctant to release their pups without home and owner inspections; inspections Dean was sure to fail. His criminal record a sure fire red flag to any reasonable breeder.

Dean yearned for the company and warmth an Omega could provide, but his sketchy past meant he now found himself being herded into the crowd, alongside Benny, his long-time friend, to watch a Dog fight. 

“Is all this even legal?” Dean eyed his surroundings sceptically. The main Arena, as it was called, catered for a small, raised stage that was roped off. He wasn’t stupid but he had hoped there was at least some officialism to it, especially with the amount of people in attendance.

Benny huffed and shook his head. “It’s unlicensed dog fighting, what do you think?”

“So what happens now?” Dean wasn’t sure if he even wanted to see what happened next, doubt starting to cloud his judgement.

“This is the fight schedule” Benny reached into his pocket to retrieve it, “now you pick your fighter, place bets, and hopefully win.”

Scanning the schedule, Dean saw the first fight was to start in five minutes. 

Dog #13  
(84lbs)  
VS  
Dog #19  
(123lbs)

As they made their way over to the betting booth, Benny looked over to see Dean concentrating hard over the schedule. “You gonna bet?”  
Jolted out of his train of thought, Dean looked up at Benny and grinned. “Haha of course! $80 on Dog #19!” Benny observed him, “You sure about that brother? The numbers are their fight ratings.” “C’mon it’s a shoe in! My dog has nearly 40lbs on his opponent!” Benny just shrugged and placed $100 on Dog #13. 

Bets placed, and position in the bustling crowd secured, Dean waited with anticipation for his first ever dog fight. He was still unsure, but Benny’s excitement was palpable. He wasn’t sure why his friend enjoyed this scene, but he figured each to their own.

The announcer made his presence known and the crowd grew excitable. Dean could feel the vibrations of the shouts and cheers in his chest. The arena was absolutely energetic. He started to understand why people frequently attended.

“Good afternoon and welcome to today’s fights. In the left corner we have Dog #19. At 123lbs he’s strong, he’s fast and he’s feral. Just what we like to see.”

Dog #19 was led onto the stage accompanied by jeers and taunts from the crowd, causing the dog to snarl and growl. The heavy collar around his neck attached to a long chain permitted the handler to occasionally tug him along and away from the spectators. Upon reaching the stage, the Omega was pushed through the gap in the ropes as the handler fed the chain through a latch on the left corner stand, letting some slack and allowing the Omega to move around more freely in the ring.

Once the dog was situated securely in the ring, the Announcer continued, “And in the right corner is our very own home grown 84lb wild dog, #13! He’s small but he’s vicious and he’s going to make this fight an exciting one!”

Dog #13 appeared to cheers and heckles, his respective handler following the same protocol of yanking him along then shoving him through the ropes, feeding the chain through a latch on the right corner post. Both dogs were shackled but had the freedom to fight.

“Alright gents, bets are now closed… Dogs, you wait for the bell.”

A sharp bell rang, alerting the start of the fight. Immediately both dogs lurched at one another. Snarling and growling, they fought dirty. No specific skills, no technique, just teeth and claws.

Just minutes into the fight, and after circling one another, the smaller Omega dog suddenly got the upper hand, launching at #19 and grappling him onto his back, biting down hard on the back of his neck; breaking the skin. #19 squealed but the small Omega didn’t let up. Instead biting down harder, drawing more blood.

The handlers in the right corner gave a succession of short sharp tugs, then pulled tight and held. The omega’s neck craning backward and back arching painfully as he continued to blindly grab at his challenger. 

“That’s not fair!” Dean called out. Why were the handlers limiting the Omega?

Benny shouted over the cheers and chants, “Fight rules, if they draw blood they have to release.”

Seeing the advantage, the larger Omega stood and clawed at his opponents throat. #13 let out a howl and was released, returning to the scrap.

Dean watched the fight with blatant interest. Unable to take his eyes of both Omegas as they fought, both eager for the other’s blood.

Dean gasped as the crowd cheered loudly when the smaller Omega dog sunk his teeth into his opponents arm, ripping a considerable chunk from it. Blood dripping down his chin only heightened how feral the dog was. Dean was completely taken aback at the sight, he’d never seen such a wild Omega before, and one so small.

The little Omegas’s eyes flashed as he bared his teeth once more and growled at the cowering fighter, cradling his injured arm. However, before he could lunge again, the handlers forced him back by the lead linked to his collar and separated them. The announcer signalled the end of the fight. 

Dean watched with partial fascination as the fight dog was subdued by the handlers. Blond hair fisted, pulled back and held tight by one, as the other replaced and secured a choke collar around his neck, pulling once in warning. That seemed to do the trick, as the Omega then allowed himself to be led away without so much as baring his teeth. #19 even injured, was given the same rough treatment of hair grabbing and choke collar attachment. No mercy as he too was dragged off and away from the arena.

Watching the Omega being led away, he thought aloud, “I always thought these places fought to the death.”  
Benny, scrunching his face leaned into Dean’s line of vision. “Not always, besides they wouldn’t earn much money if they kept killing off their dogs. Plus they like to create crowd favourites, makes punters put down more bets.” Benny’s eyes flashed as he waved his betting stub in Dean’s face, smirking.

By the third fight, Dean wasn’t sure if he even wanted a fight dog. Honestly, they unnerved him. Their crazed eyes were enough to put him off. Having lived alone, Dean didn’t even have experience owning a regular house omega, let alone a wild dog. 

Stomach lurching by the end of the third fight, as he watched Dog #27 bleed out after being bitten by Dog #25, Benny elbowed him to let him know it was time to move to the auction. Mistaking Dean’s hesitation for interest in the fight and not squeamishness. “Don’t worry there are other fights after the auction, so we won’t miss too much.”

As they walked, Benny filled Dean in about the types of dogs typically sold at auction. Active fight dogs aren’t sold, only retirees.  
“Is there any chance I can buy that wily blond from the first fight covered in blood to be my wholesome omega pet?” Dean teased.  
Benny threw his head back to laugh heartily, “Oh Dean, that wily blond may have been one of the more docile ones!” He patted Dean on the shoulder and moved ahead, leaving Dean gaping behind him.

The auction room was small, packing in rows and rows of plastic chairs. With the amount of space, the Auction wasn’t fully in attendance. Dean counted another 15 men in the room. 

“Only six dogs on sale today” Benny commented, handing Dean the sale booklet. Upon examining the first one, Dean found himself confused. “Wait, so the top 6 dogs are all being sold? I thought you said only retirees are being sold?”  
It took a few seconds for Benny to understand what Dean had said, “What? Wait, no, the numbers here have nothing to do with fight rankings. It’s literally just the order of sale.”  
Dean hummed his understanding, attention drawn once again to the list of Omegas. He had come here today with the intention of buying one, but after the fight display he’d see earlier; he was now insecure about his initial decision.

Deciding not to announce his worry to Benny, Dean was happy to sit through the remainder of the auction. It wasn’t until Benny looked over at him that he started to feign mild interest, flicking through the booklet.

Dog #1  
150lbs  
Light brown hair  
Trained to an extent  
STARTING BID: $800

Dog #1 was certainly pretty. Nicely muscled with deep brown eyes, and tanned skin complimented by light hair. Although the ‘trained to an extent’ was a little off putting. 

Dog #2  
132lbs  
Blond hair  
No training  
STARTING BID: $550

The ‘no training’ meant Dean didn’t linger on the photo. ‘No training no interest’ suddenly became Dean’s buy guideline.

Dog #3  
95lbs  
Blond hair  
Trained to an extent  
STARTING BID $750

“Benny what does ‘trained to an extent’ mean? It’s all a bit vague”. Benny frowned and pulled a face. “Well, while the dogs are here the only training they receive from the handlers mainly consists of associating pain with certain collars. Remember these dogs are wild but there is a way to control them, so don’t worry about that.”

Dean was certainly going to worry about it. To distract himself from Benny he continued to use his thumb to flick through the pages, repeating the actions, until his eyes caught the sight of a shock of dark hair between the pages.  
Opening up the booklet, Dean scanned the last page, indulging in the picture of the Omega, where big blue eyes stared back at him.

Dog #6  
79lbs  
Dark brown hair  
Trained to an extent  
STARTING BID $250

Dog #6 was beautiful. Just the sight of him caused something to churn inside of Dean. Something he hadn’t felt in years. Immediately, his alpha self knew this was the dog he wanted. Nudging Benny, he waited for his attention before pointing out #6.

Benny gave him a look. “Really? That one? That dog has been here for years, no one ever wants him. Why his price is so low.”

Benny was right, #6 was considerably lower than the others. Still he couldn’t ignore his feeling of attachment; his Alpha was almost calling out to this Omega. And besides, the low prices could be seen as a positive.

Entranced by the picture of the blue-eyed Omega, Dean neglected to realise the auctioneer had entered the room and had started to hush the small crowd until Benny’s elbow in his ribs alerted him the proceedings had started.

The auctioneer, a small squat Englishman had a smugness about him which disturbed Dean. Then again, most of this experience had disturbed Dean.

“Good afternoon gentlemen. My name is Mr. Crowley and I’m happy to see some of you have made your way in from the arena. Today we only have five dogs on sale, but let me remind you, they were some of our best! Let us begin Dog #1. The bidding starts at $800.”

Dean gawked as paddles flew up, allowing the price of the dog to steadily rise.

“$1000! Do I see $1050?”  
An overweight man raised his paddle with difficulty. Dean could see just that simple action has left him breathless. Remembering the picture he had seen of Dog #1, he chuckled at the thought of the overweight man attempting to control him. At least Dean has his fitness.

Then it hit him, he’d seen the picture but where was the dog? Confused, he looked around for where the Omega was.

“Where’s the dog?” Dean spoke over the sound of the hammer being brought down. $1450 for Dog #1, the overweight man had been outbid at the last minute by a pale, sickly looking man. Face obscured by a hooded cloak, seemingly embarrassed about where he was spending his time and money.  
“They only go by pictures, too much hassle to bring each dog out, and not enough handlers I suspect.”

Patiently Dean sat through the rest of the auction. Watched as paddles flew up among the booming voice of the Auctioneer. Excitement surging through the room as men got into bidding wars for their desired Omega dogs. Dean hoped no one would battle him for #6, especially since the price was so low. One possible rival was a man Benny had pointed out, Alistair. Apparently he liked to collect dogs. Benny shared a heinous rumour among the attendees that Alistair liked to torture them. Dean shuddered at that.

Dog #5 was called. Dean looked down at the booklet to see a pair of listless, unfocused eyes. Ignoring the obvious pain behind them, he shuffled forward slightly in his seat, ignoring Benny’s smirk, grabbing his paddle preparing for the next bid.

“Dog #5 sold for $750, to the man at the front, congratulations Sir!”

“Looks like that creep Alistair has claimed another” Benny’s voice was low but Alistair’s obvious sneer towards them meant that he had heard.

“Alright Gents, thank you for your bids but that is all we have for today. If you were successful in claiming an Omega, step through these doors to my left, where payment will be confirmed and paperwork exchanged. If you were not so lucky, please enjoy the remaining fights we have this afternoon.”

Dean sat there dumbfounded. Separated and unfocused from the movement around him. There was still one Omega dog for sale, and that was the one he wanted. 

Standing abruptly, he made his way to the Auctioneer, who had held back to clear away the stand. With Benny in tow, the Auctioneer sensed their approach, and turned to greet them.

“Can I help you boys?” 

“Hey, uh, what happened, uh, you haven’t finished?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You, uh, the auction, there’s more to be sold?”

Narrowing his eyes, Crowley responded with annoyance, “I’m sorry boy, but if you were unsuccessful in acquiring one of our dogs there’s nothing I can do. You’ll have to come back next month when we hold another auction. Fights are still on for next week though, so you’re more than welcome to come along and place bets. Now if you will excuse me I have business to attend to.”

Crowley made to step in the space in between Dean and Benny, but Dean was quick to take a hold of his shoulders. Earning himself a hostile glare and look of warning from Benny.

Knowing his own stupidity, he removed his grip but left them in the air in a placating gesture.

“No, I wasn’t unsuccessful, you never called him out!”

Crowley looked between them, showing no sign of understanding. Dean was getting frustrated with how little this guy was co-operating. 

“This one, #6! Last Omega on sale, you didn’t even call him out!”

Crowley squinted down at the page Dean was holding up then let his face mould into a grin. “This one?” He chuckled to himself “you want this one?” The Englishman wiped his hand down his face before looking up at Dean. A twinkle in his eye.

Dean decided he did not like this man. What kind of a name is Crowley anyway? Squat but solid, he knew he could take him. Just one punch square in the jaw and Dean would be satisfied. However, whether Dean towered over him or not, he knew it would be unwise to vent his anger at a place like this. Benny’s words of “unlicensed dog fight” rang through his mind and he knew these men were not to be trifled with. 

Crowley snapped his fingers in Dean’s face. “Hey, you want this one?” Pointing to #6

“Yes”

“You’ve been here before?”

“No”

“I see. Well, since you’re new I’ll cut you some slack, see we don’t usually allow punters to buy outside of the auction. We like to keep things orderly here.”

Dean wanted to scoff but settled for coughing into his hand instead.

“So… can I see him?”

“What the Omega? Yes yes you can but after the payment is made. Rules you see.” Crowley shrugged but eyed him heavily.

Before he could give an answer, Benny excused them both and pulled him away for a private chat.

“Brother, this is not your smartest idea. Buying some unknown, unsellable Omega dog? Red flag right there.”

“Hey isn’t this why you brought me here in the first place, huh? I wanted to leave with one so why not the one I actually want?”

“Dean there’s a reason why that dog hasn’t been sold, and another why the Auctioneer didn’t even attempt to sell him. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this, and I don’t want you getting mixed up with the likes of it.”

“Benny, I know this whole operation is shady, hell I wanted to leave after that first fight. But this Omega here, there’s something within me that is reacting to it. My Alpha instinct is telling me this is my Omega. And hey, best thing I could do is get it away from a place like this. I’m sure it’d love the Ranch.”

"These aren't rescue dogs Dean, these are fight dogs! I brought you here because I know buying a fight dog is your only option and you want help with your ruts, but there are ways to go about this safely. I wouldn't have brought you here if I knew it'd put you in danger. Listen to me, there are better, safer dogs to buy from this place. This guy is taking advantage of you being new and inexperienced. Why do you think none of the other punters asked about him huh? They know to keep away from him!"

"Benny I'm not stupid, I know the risks but I really can't turn away from what I'm feeling."

Benny hesitated, looking incredibly unsure. His face was solemn but he stepped to the side, allowing Dean to walk past him.

“I just hope you don’t regret this Dean.”

Dean approached Crowley. “Excellent” Crowley beamed at him. “If you would follow me.”

Dean didn’t need to look back at Benny to know he was grimacing.


	2. Hushed and Rushed

Stepping through into the offices, Dean was once again met with the stench he was first assaulted with upon entering the building. Although back here it was much, much worse; and Dean understood why. The offices were attached to the dog kennels. 

How could anyone want to work in a place like this?

Dean was escorted to a desk in the back corner of the room, and told to wait. Watching Crowley as he approached a man standing guard to the kennels and whispered in his ear. The man’s eyes widened a fraction before settling on Dean. Smirking he turned and disappeared through the Kennel doors.

Crowley returned to the desk to busy himself with sorting paperwork. 

“First I need the full payment of $350 in cash. Will that be a problem?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, “The dog’s starting bid was $250.”

Shrugging, Crowley proceeded to inform Dean on the handling fee of late or out of hour purchases. A fee for a purchase they never normally allowed? Dean wanted to argue it but the look on Crowley’s face suggested otherwise.

“No, not a problem” Dean huffed as he reached into his wallet to procure the right cash. Trying to ignore Crowley’s eyes that were greedily watching him fingering through the notes. Then snuffing his reaction as Crowley snatched them from Dean’s grip as soon as the correct amount was counted.

“Great! Okay here is the paperwork for Dog #6. I apologise for the state of them, you see we never thought we would ever sell him, so his paperwork was not updated like the others. But rest assured, everything you need to know is on them. Sign here please.”

Dean was handed a number of crumpled and stained pieces of paper, obviously stapled together with haste, along with a pen. Crowley’s eyed his hand intensly, waiting for that all important signature. As Dean’s hand hovered over the dotted line, Crowley subtly continued to lean in.

Dean suddenly brought his hand away and sat upright, causing Crowley to scowl in annoyance.

“Just one thing, why hasn’t the dog been sold yet? Is there anything I need to know, anything at all?”

“Like I said Mr Winchester, everything you need to know is in the contract and paperwork. That includes the temperament, training and the dogs previous fight history. Fight history is on the other sheet, but you already know he’s a fighter so there’s no need to read that.”

Due to the state of the contractual papers, Dean had trouble making out most of the text. He could decipher the age of the Omega, 16, and that he had been bought by the organization at the age of 8. Squinting at the words, a lot of it was jumbled jargon. Jargon that was getting harder to translate with the background noise of Crowley tutting and drumming his fingers. Deciding to move this process along himself and regardless of the state of the papers, he signed his name in neat script, an action which had Crowley grinning.

“Mr Winchester, because of your willingness to buy a long-standing Omega from us, I’ll throw in a selection of collars free of charge.” Crowley continued to place a heavy metal collar, a choke collar and a shock collar onto the table in front of him. Dean winced when he touched the sharp prong of the choke collar. “I really don’t think I’ll need any of this.”

“Mr Winchester, you need to understand, you haven’t bought a pedigree Omega, you have purchased a wild dog, a fighting one at that. You’ll need them, trust me.”

Remembering the control the handlers showed with the collar, Dean reluctantly placed the items in the duffel bag Crowley had also provided. Which Dean noticed also contained a whip. “Is the whip really necessary?”

“If you want to be in full control, then yes.”

Dean was starting to become perturbed, thinking maybe he’d allowed his Alpha instincts to lead him into a stupid decision. Suddenly wishing he’d listened to Benny, his usual voice of reason, and picked a more suitable Omega. Price be damned.

Dean’s head turned to the direction of sound coming from the Kennel doors. Heat rate climbing as he waited for the Omega to finally show. The same guard from before entered, and to Dean’s dismay, alone. Moving toward Crowley to whisper something into his ear.

Crowley stood at that, eyes flicking to Dean to announce, “The Omega is ready, if you’ll follow me.”

Crowley proceeded to lead Dean through the door and into the Kennels; where the original odour seemed to be sourced. Most cages were covered but that didn’t block out the chorus of hisses and growls Dean was subjected to. Extraordinary to be an Alpha intimidated walking past a group of Omegas.

Crowley stopped outside a small cage, cover already taken off. He looked at Dean expectantly. Peering in, Dean saw the back of a dark-haired Omega. Battered and bruised, laying on its side, the dog wasn’t moving. Dean noticed his Omega was collared and chained to the floor, with an equally thick chain and shackle attached to his right ankle. With how thin and weak the dog looked, was it really necessary?

Dean brought his gaze back to Crowley, who picked up on his uncertainty. “He’s been sedated for transportation. The dogs are too dangerous to be simply walked out of here.”

Dean felt the familiar pull of uneasiness within him.

“Can I at least see his face, I want to check my purchase is correct.”

“Oh of course!” Snapping his fingers he gestured for the guard beside them to open the cage. The guard entered to roughly pull the limp Omega’s shoulder and roll him onto this other side.

His face finally in view, Dean saw that the Omega in person was just as beautiful as his picture. Although his injuries were apparent and marred his features. Hopefully the bruising and swelling would fade.

“Satisfied?” Crowley clipped.

“Uh yeah, yeah I guess.”

“Here is a ticket granting access through the back gate, you are to go to Door C for pick up. We will prep him for you.”

At that, Dean was ushered out of the Kennels by the guard and practically pushed out of the doors and back into the empty auction room. Walking out into the main arena, he was jumped on by Benny. He knew he looked pale because Benny was looked nervous. Letting out a long exhale of the breath he was holding, he attempted to assure his friend. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just worried I may have bitten off more than I can chew.”

“Well you’ve bought him now, no room to fret. Just have to roll with the punches now my friend.”

“Great.. thanks.”

“Dean you know I’ll be helping you with this. I feel partially responsible if this goes belly up.” 

Dean huffs out a quiet thank you and continues to slowly step around his space, hands deep in his jean pockets.

“What’s happening now? Why we waiting here?”

“They’re prepping him for us or something.”

“Oh yeah, that means they’ll sedate the Omega for transportation, just makes it easier on our part.”

“But he was already sedated when I went in though? So what other prep is needed?”

“That’s odd, the prep is the sedation… you sure he wasn’t asleep or something? Typically new buys get a look over.”

“He was in there, I saw his face.”

“Why wouldn’t they want you to see him conscious though? Maybe I should have gone in there with you.”

“Benny don’t start okay, I’m worried enough as it is. I just need you to be calm about this. Besides I saw him, he’s #6, he’s the one I wanted. Let’s just collect him from Gate C and we’ll go from there alright."

“I’m not starting, if anything I’m trying to protect you. Something real shady is happening here Dean and I don’t know why you can’t see it. I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Dean started “My instin-” but Benny was quick to cut him off, “Don’t give me any more of your Alpha feelings or instincts Dean, we both know where that has got you in the past.”

Dean’s face dropped and flushed with shame. Benny noticed the reaction, quickly backtracking, “I’m sorry brother, I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay, I guess I could stand to be taken down a peg or two when I do stupid things like this.”

"Come on, let's go get your new pet."

As Dean tried to walk away, Benny pulled him into a half hug, leading him back outside and steering him towards his truck.

Benny pulled his truck up to the back gate and Dean leaned over to hand the attendant the ticket which would allow them to pass through and park at Gate C.

As they both got out and opened the pick up’s boot door, the same guard from before came out the door carrying the young Omega Dean had just bought. Not so gently chucking the Omega down into the back. Dean noticed the Omega had been cuffed. 

“Hey! Careful with the merchandise!” Dean scolded.

The guard merely rolled his eyes, tossing Dean the handcuff keys. Then turning to them both to explain, “The moment you leave this lot, your dog is your property. Meaning there are no refunds, no returns and no exchanges. Any problems you have are you own, not ours. You try and bring him back for whatever reason you'll both be killed onsite. Understood?”

Dean gulped, "Yes, fine."

"Good, we’re done here. Enjoy your new pet.”

The guard disappeared behind the heavy door of Gate C, leaving a trail of apprehension in his wake. "Christ Benny, you didn't tell me these guys were Mafia"

Benny closed the hatch of his truck and shrugged at Dean. "They give that warning talk to everyone, don't feel singled out." At that he made his way to the front, getting in behind the wheel, leaving his his head hanging out to shout back to Dean, “Come on, it’s a good three hour drive and I want to be back before dinner.”

Dean, ignoring Benny, found himself leaning over the car to stroke back the thick, dark hair of his Omega. His Omega. He finally got himself an Omega pet. Part of him couldn’t believe this was how he’d done it, but a part of him was slowly thawing out to being relieved. Looking down at the sweet, beautiful face, Dean was finally able to really see his pet. Slightly sickly, pale skin complimenting dark feathered lashes that rested on striking cheekbones. The Omega looked like a sleeping angel; a badly injured angel at that. Dean hoped the injuries weren’t permanent, looking forward to the day the Omega was fully healed. Finding that he couldn't resist one more pet, he ruffled his Omega's hair as he smiled down at him.

With renewed vigour, he joined Benny inside the truck, excited to get home.

“Brother, he must be your Omega, look at you, one stroke of his hair and you’re practically giddy.”

Dean struck out his hand to hit Benny on his forearm, pouting. However, Benny may have spoken too soon as driving back through the parking lot gates, the words of the guard appeared and sat heavy in his gut. However, the rapidly climbing anxiety that came with crossing Dean’s own Rubicon was extinguished by Benny’s hearty chuckle.  
“I know this has started out quite stressfully, but I’m starting to get a good feeling about this. Come on, let’s get your Omega home.”


	3. Bring Him Home

The first hour of the journey was Benny firing questions at him. Questions that made Dean realise maybe he should have been more prepared when he decided he wanted a Pet. 

“Where are you going to be keeping him?” Benny asked as his eyes danced back and forth from Dean’s own and the road.

“In the spare room?” Benny turned to him, looking perplexed. “No? Why not?”

“You’re not seriously telling me you’re going to allow the dog inside your home straight away? Wild dogs stay outside Dean!”

“Not even in a cage in the kitchen?”

As the traffic in front of them slowed and eased to a stop, Benny was able to hold his gaze much longer. “Dean, it’ll be easier to leave him in a pen outside. Just think, you need as much control over him as possible; especially in the first few months when you’re training him. Keeping him in a cage will not only limit your control over him but no doubt urge him to create a bad attitude towards you. You’re the Alpha, you need to show him you’re the boss, but you also need to allow his Omega needs to come to you. You can’t force that connection.”

“But your pet lives inside with you, you’ve even said yourself he’s slept in your bed!”

“Only during ruts is that allowed! And yeah that’s because I’ve had him for three years. My pet is trained, not some unruly dog that’s been handed to me straight from the arena.”

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance, “The Omega is retired, remember.”

Benny started to raise his voice. “Yes, but not trained. That’s why the first few months are vital in establishing rules, commands and dominance. And with that the Omega stays outside.”

“I haven’t got the barn ready, I would have set up a pen for him.” Dean murmured back.

“The barn would be perfect! Lots of room plus it’s covered.”

Dean nodded as he leaned back into the seat, stretching his legs out. Mentally picturing the task of clearing out the Barn to make space for his new pet as Benny whirred on with information of Omega Feed, correct paperwork, collars and training techniques. By the second hour the grumbling of their stomachs combined was loud enough to have Benny pulling into the next diner. Dean was grateful for the reprieve of insistent questions and greedy to chow into some burger meat and fries. Upon entering, they followed a sprightly blonde to a table by the window, which Dean was grateful for as he had ample view of the diner car park, and Benny’s truck. 

“What you thinking?”

Without missing a beat, Dean replied “Will he be okay out there by himself?”

“Huh? What, no I meant what you thinking about food?”

“Oh, uh, burger probably.”

Benny hummed in agreement, “Oh yeah, could kill for one of those, and maybe some fries. Can’t forget sides either…”

As Benny continued to list of his dietary wants and needs, Dean’s eyes drifted back to the truck. His thoughts were chaotic. He hated the constant switching of feeling positive and feeling afraid. Lost in his thoughts of his new pet, Dean was oblivious to the waitress standing at their table, oblivious to Benny tapping the table in attempts to snap him back to reality and finally oblivious when the waitress brought over their food.

Dean looked up just as the waitress left, looking down at his burger confused. “Did I order this?”

“No, I did.” Seeing Dean’s annoyance, he continued “You were just sitting there staring into space. Me nor the waitress could get your attention.” At that, Dean looked over to the waitress, flushing with embarrassment. Although relieved Benny seemingly had not cottoned onto exactly what he was staring at.

Much to Dean's dismay, Benny was eager to continue their conversation.

“When’s your next rut?”

“Four weeks.”

Benny considered Dean’s answer before eyeing up the burger he held in both hands, taking another bite. “So…” words jumbled together with food in Benny’s full mouth. “Planning on using him?”

Dean sighed. “Honestly I don’t know just yet. I’ll wait and see how he settles in and what his behaviour is like.”

Benny answered by simply burping into his hand and calling the waitress over for another drink and a menu.

Dessert plates cleared and belly's full, Benny handed the waitress a hefty tip and a wink, smiling as she blushed crimson. Dean looked on at the scene feeling completely lost. Hearing the door shut behind him, safely blocking out further conversation, Dean inquired, "Am I missing something?"

Benny's eyes sparkled. "I know the competition for tail can get tough between us, but you practically rolled over in defeat in the bid for that cute blonde in there. While you were gazing out the window thinking about your little pet I stole your napkin to get her name and number. Pretty girl, name's Caitlin. We're going out tomorrow."

Dean ducked his head, mortified Benny had known exactly where his mind had wandered to. Clearing his throat and meeting Benny's eye, Dean retaliated "I've been cleaning up around you Benny, thought I'd give you this one to keep your morale up!"

Smirking, Benny patted the back of Dean's neck, then squeezed tightly, causing Dean to gasp, duck and hunch his shoulders. "Sure Dean, that's exactly what you did. Now go check on your pet, no more stops until yours."  
Benny's grin drew out a sheepish smile on Dean's face. At that, Dean made to check the Omega over who was still sleeping soundly, hastily, to avoid any more stick from the man.  
Once Dean was settled in the passenger seat, the truck was steered back onto the road to the soundtrack of Benny and Dean amusing themselves with stories of dating, girls, and nights out. 

Dean snorted awake, head falling from his hand as the truck travelled down the familiar dust track leading down to his Ranch. Disorientated, he looked at the time. 10pm.

Benny yawned beside him. “It’s already gotten quite dark, what do you want to do about the dog?”

“We won’t have time to rearrange the Barn.”

“It’s a warm evening, could just leave him out.”

“I don’t know, the temperature does drop eventually.”

“Ah he’ll be fine. Just make sure his chain is secure because I swear to God Dean, if I get a call from you to say he’s run away I am not helping.”

Dean laughed at the vision of Benny running around in circles, trying to chase down a quick, little Omega, “Fine! In that case though help me chain him up.”

Once the truck had come to a stop, Dean jumped down to scout out an ideal place to leave the Omega for the night; somewhere secure but also close to the house. Benny made to retrieve the Omega from the back, sedation still in full effect.

Pulling the Omega’s ankles towards him, then scooping his arms under his back and legs, Benny lifted the Omega up and out of the truck as he shouted over to Dean. “God he’s light. How much did it say he weighed? 80lbs or something right?”

Dean looked towards Benny’s voice to find his friend bouncing the small Omega in his arms to test his theory.

“Yeah 79lbs exactly.”

“Christ he’s tiny! Makes you wonder how they become such good fighters right?!”

“From what I saw today it wasn’t really strength was it, just an unhinged attitude and a lot of biting and scratching.”

“Ah fuck, you know what we didn’t think about. If this little guy is a biter you’re going to need a gag.”

“Good point. I’ll have to run to the store tomorrow, for now I’ll just leave it but I’ll be cautious.”

“Tell you what, I think I have a spare pair of mittens in the truck, take him a sec while I look.”

Benny jogged over to transfer the Omega into Dean’s open arms. Making sure he had him, Benny turned from them to jog back to his truck. 

Cradling his Omega, Dean used the moment to stare contently at his face. Captivated with how peaceful he looked. The darkening sky did not prove to be substantial lighting, but with what little light was left, Dean could see the bruising and swelling around the Omega’s jawline and eyes. Anger swelled inside him, the urge to keep his pet safe blossoming.  
Silently wishing he could rouse his pet for two blue eyes to peak back at him, he started to stroke his face and hair. The lack of response was a given but still disappointing.

The moment was over when Benny returned with a pair of knitted mittens. Picking up each hand in turn to pull them on. “There, he won’t be able to scratch your eyes out now.” Benny went to take the Omega back but Dean pulled him into his chest, gripping tighter. “I know where I can put him.”

Benny didn’t argue, simply moving back and falling into step behind Dean as he led him to the backside of the wrap around porch and the steps leading up to it. 

“The fencing here is strong enough to hold the chain and his weight. Plus he can take shelter under the stairs if needed.”

Benny surveyed the porch fencing and the crawlspace under the stairs, finding it to be perfect.  
“Okay lay him down on his side, I’ll give him a little slack so he can turn but he won’t be able to stand up without you tending to him.”

Dean ever so gently laid his pet out onto the grass, manoeuvring him onto his side. Touching skin, he could feel his back was a canvas to raised scarring. Dean didn’t realise he had growled until he noticed that Benny had stopped shackling the chain.

Benny continued to thread the chain around the fencing three times over. “Where’s your toolbox, I need padlocks.”

“Round the front, I’ll get it.” Standing, Dean turned back, “And Benny, don’t you touch him.”

Threat apparent, Benny mumbled under his breath, “First day and that boy’s in deep.”

Dean returned quickly with the padlocks, practically throwing them at Benny, so he could kneel by his Omega and softly stroke his hair.  
Dean knelt there as Benny finished clicking the three padlocks into place. “Same key for each one, yes?”

Dean nodded, stood and stared at his pet.

“Is he really going to be okay if I leave him here?”

“Dean, he’ll be fine. Now, get some rest, you're in the eye of the storm.” With that, Benny made his way to his truck, departing with a promise he’d be back whenever Dean needed him. 

Waving him off, Dean turned his back to the pick-up rocking over the bumpy track and made his way to the back porch. Dean bristled as a chill breeze swept through him, wrapping his arms around himself. Reaching the porch, he untangled his arms to finger the painted white fence panel which now accommodated the chain, and frowned. Dean wasn’t too happy with Benny’s work; the slack wasn’t loose enough. The Omega wouldn't even be able to move under the stairs for shelter, which was why he had singled out this spot. Though not wanting to undo the security of the knotted chain loops, Dean resigned to leaving it be. With one last stroke of the Omega’s hair, he pulled himself away and into his home.

A home he had lived in peaceful solitude for nine years. A home he now shared with his new pet. A home that suddenly felt empty knowing his pet was outside, away from him.

Pacing the kitchen, which looked out onto the back garden, Dean every so often would lean over the counter to try and look out the window and down over the porch. Each time would prove the view of the Omega was blocked, but Dean would still prevail. Desperate in hoping that one of these times, he would lean over and be greeted with the view of his Omega.

After finding himself testing the view from each window in back of the house, and finding he had no view of the Omega from each one, Dean realised just how stupid this little exercise was. Hesitating not too long, he swung the back porch door open and strode across it. Taking the stairs two at a time, he landed firmly on his feet, spinning to see his Omega still shackled and still unconscious.

Breathing deeply, Dean knew he was being ridiculous. Still there was something deep within him that was drawn to this Omega.

Temptation to release his pet and bring him into his home was becoming over-whelming. Dean’s left hand rested on the left pocket of his jeans, the pocket which held the key to the padlock and chains.

Would it really be such a bad idea to bring him inside? Just for one night.

Hand reaching into his pocket, the cold touch of metal on skin knocked Dean out of his daze; jump-starting Benny’s words of advice and warning. No, this wasn’t a time to be stupid or regret his actions. He was to leave the Omega outside and secured.

Once again after retreating back into his home, not even ten minutes later Dean found himself outside by the Omega’s side. The only light the sky now held were the stars blinking above him. The temperature had already started to drop and the chill in the air was evident, his arms breaking out into a sea of goosebumps. 

Dean was sparring with his conscience and his rationality. After minutes of pacing in frustration, Dean was struck by an idea. Running back up the steps, he disappeared into the house. Only to return with elevated rapture, shattering the stillness and quiet of his garden. Having had retrieved a knitted blanket that used to locale the living room sofa, Dean shook out the folds and covered the Omega tenderly. Standing back to watch the calm rise and fall of his pet's chest, Dean was content.

Finding that he was now comfortable to leave the Omega alone for the night, Dean wandered back up the steps and back into his kitchen.

Walking through the space and around the island counter, he reached up to grip a tumbler from the cupboard. Feeling in need of something strong, he poured himself some Bourbon from the selection of drinks at his bar.

Gulping down the amber liquid in one, Dean leaned back against the counter, gasping as he brought his wrist to his face, cool glass resting on his forehead.

Already fighting down a new urge to check on his Omega, and fearing he would end up setting up camp outside in his conscious state; Dean found it necessary to pour himself another drink. Downing that, he poured another, and then another. Until retreating to his bedroom, glass and bottle in hand.

The bottom of the bottle of Bourbon chased Dean to an early night. Leading the way to an agitated sleep and fragmented dreams of blue eyes and soft dark hair.


	4. The Morning After

Dean awoke to the sounds of groaning. A low sound which matched the steady, thumping beat in his head. The sting of his eyelids crusted together and a mouth full of cotton enabled his consciousness to jerk him up and out of his restless, bourbon addled slumber. Eyes lazily rolling around the room, he came to realise the groans were in fact being pulled out of him. Cursing his own behaviour as his bedside clock blinked 7am, he curled inward to press lightly on his stomach, inhaling deeply.

Rolling onto his right side took a huge amount of effort, and had negative consequences. The bourbon that still swilled heavily in his gut had excited the nausea he thought he’d slept off. Falling out of bed and stumbling to his ensuite, Dean managed to make it to the toilet just as the contents of his stomach demanded an appearance.

Heaving the alcohol into the toilet, Dean moaned unhappily. Dropping his knees painfully to the floor, he draped his arms over the seat to slump over the toilet. Glad that no one was seeing his like this, or hearing him wretch up the last of his sobriety. Dean’s eyes widened. No one was here, were they? God he’d drunk so much he’d blacked out and then some. He remembered Benny coming over… was Benny still here?

Sitting back on his bum and putting his hands behind him, he half shuffled half crab-walked towards the bathroom door. Peering out he saw his bedroom to be empty; his large oak bed not giving away any information if he had slept alone or not. Quilt ruffled and pillows tossed haphazardly in different directions.

Attempting to stand, he found that leaning forward with his hands grasping his thighs was the only position his body could cope with in his current state. 

Blinking hazily, Dean noticed the empty bottle of bourbon on the floor by his bedside table. He must have knocked if off in his sleep. Dean had consumed the contents to its last drop. Shame and embarrassment washed through him. Humiliated that yet again he’d fallen off the wagon. The only positive was that the worst of his actions caused a headache and nothing more. 

Sobriety for Dean was the backbone to getting his life back on track. Was the reason he moved from the City and into his Ranch. And Dean couldn’t even remember why he’d needed a drink in the first place.

Offended by the sunrise streaming in through the window, and filled to the brim with self-loathing, Dean permitted himself to fall back into his bed, sinking into his nest of quilts and pillows.

He hated himself, wanting to hide away for a while. With most of the alcohol expelled from his system, Dean wasted no time getting into a comfortable position to drift off into a deep sleep. As he felt the lull of warmth and comfort guide him under, he idly felt there was something important he had to do.

Ignoring any sense of brain power for unconsciousness, Dean sunk into his bed and into a dreamless sleep.

Slowly rousing a few hours later, Dean contemplated his actions. He wished he could shake the shame, shed his skin of stupidity and come out a better man.

Making his way to his bathroom to relieve himself, he caught his reflection in the mirror. Staring hard and surveying himself, he summed up how terrible he looked. Eyes crusty and red rimmed, skin dried out, pulling tight over his features, and his lips dry and puffy.

If he couldn’t actually shed his skin, Dean opted to do the next best thing, take a scolding hot shower.

Turning on the tap to trigger the harsh spray of freezing water, Dean stepped back to wallow in his lacklustre appearance. God he really looked awful. Tired and strung out, he hadn’t done himself any favours. 

Dean’s hangovers always arrived with a note of disassociation. Staring back into dull red eyes, Dean barely recognised himself, unfortunately an all too familiar feeling. Leaning over the sink to stare himself down, he was caught up in a daze. 

As the water heated up to his desired temperature, Dean enjoyed the steam that billowed from it, watching his face disappear in the mirror before stepping into the scolding spray. Hissing at the heat, he relented, scrubbing every inch of his body raw. Avoiding an assault on his senses of his usual body wash, he opted for his scentless soap bar so no to trigger his unsettled stomach.

For the next forty minutes, Dean simply just stood under the shower, enjoying the warmth it provided him. It seemed the only real place he felt at peace was under the spray of a hot shower. It was a form of escapism for him. A time his disordered mind would settle on being replaced with the pure physical enjoyment of water sluicing over his skin.

Dean was reluctant to move away from the water, but found the encouragement as the temperature started to drop signalling the system was out of hot water. Stepping out of the shower, Dean wrapped himself up in the last available towel on the rack and padded into his bedroom. Moving over to his curtains he pulled them back. Looking out over his garden, he calmed slightly. That view was stunning. The rolling fields, the pond, his orchard. It was all something he never got tired of. The open land made him feel free, it soothed his frayed nerves. It was well after 1pm so the sun shone high over an expanse of blue sky. His skin started to heat just standing by the window, Dean loved feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. Maybe he’d nurse his hangover outside today.

Though he was certain Benny wasn’t still around, Dean still looked out for Benny’s truck, or any other car for that matter, and after noticing his driveway only hosted his own Impala and his motorcycle, he drew back from the window. Relieved to be alone, Dean wondered down stairs with heavy footing, shuffling along in search of water and bacon. Although he wasn’t sure if bacon could cure him, the queasiness was still overpowering.

Entering the kitchen, Dean cussed at the brightness, wishing he didn’t have such a huge amount of open space allowing the natural light to flow through. Eyes sore and squinting, he blindly reached into the cupboards for a glass, hastily filling it up with water before draining it one go. Breathless, he repeated the process, body evident in its need for liquid.

After draining his third water, he moved on to his all-important hangover concoction, mixed himself a cocktail of aspirin, orange juice and small scoop of protein powder. It had always worked for him, though now it was stained with disappointment as he hadn’t needed to make it for himself in some time. Before he allowed himself to slink further into self-hatred, Dean moved on to get his bacon into the frying pan as a way of distracting himself.

None too long, the divine aroma of sizzling bacon filtering through the air improved Dean’s mood rapidly, as he moved around his kitchen with a settled ease.

The interference of the queasiness meant Dean hadn’t realised just how hungry he was. Mouth salivating, Dean turned the strips of bacon over a few more times before delivering them to his plate. Grabbing his hangover cure and some brown sauce, Dean settled himself at the counter, content on sitting in his own amicable silence. Distracting himself with food was a form of self-care. Slowly and delicately chewing on small bites of bacon, Dean was glad to feel the nausea was retreating into its cave. Which meant he was more comfortable to wolf his food down. Using his finger the swipe up any remaining sauce and juices, he continued to wash his breakfast down with his aspirin laced orange juice.

Pushing his plate away from him with a sigh, elbows placed on the counter and head resting in his hands, Dean began to rub his temples. Hands occasionally straying up into his hair, pulling and tugging on it before massaging the sore spots.

God that breakfast had nearly healed him physically, but he still felt like shit. Still not being able to believe that he drank, and not just one lousy drink but a whole bloody bottle, his mood dampened. He must have been anxious about something, he reasoned with himself.

While trying to work out his anxieties that gnawed at his nerves and sanity, Dean went about making himself a cup of coffee. The coffee machine whirred to life with an internal clunk, and then went on to gurgle out a cupful of hot black coffee. 

Inhaling the smell deeply, Dean considered his next steps. Finding it a reasonable idea to call Benny, hoping his friend could shed some light onto his failings and fill in some gaps. 

Taking his time to savour the taste of the bitter beverage, Dean enjoyed lounging in his kitchen, the sun warming him up as he occasionally stretched and arched his back like a content cat. 

After refilling his cup and settling back into his seat, Dean heard it. At first he wasn’t sure what it was but it sounded like something was scraping against the side of his porch. Puzzled, he got up to look out of his kitchen window and saw... nothing. That’s odd, he was certain he had heard something. 

Craning his head and listening intently, all Dean could hear was the chirping of birds and the breeze disturbing the branches of the trees. The noise had stopped.

Thinking it must have been an animal scurrying out from under the porch, he got comfortable on his chair to rest his head on the counter, hands in front of him splayed around the mug, collecting the warmth from it.

Until unmistakably there it was again. Dean jolted upright as he raised his head, startled by the same noise. The time though, it was accompanied by little grunts and the clacking of metal.

Once again Dean leaned over the counter to look out the window. That’s weird, Dean thought to himself. As he looked over the vast expanse of his land; nothing was in sight. Deciding to investigate, Dean drained his coffee; head tilted all the way back, cringing at the sudden onslaught of bitterness; drink lacking his usual milk and sugar.

Ears pricking as the sound returned once again, Dean reasoned that metal clinking and grunting were not the sounds of any animal that lived on his land.

Moving slowly to accommodate the last living remnants of his hangover, Dean made his way out onto this porch. Stretching his arms out and over his head to correct his stiffness, he trudged over towards the steps to sluggishly footstep down one at a time.

Reaching the last step he turned in surprise to the clanking of metal. And there, to Dean’s absolute shock, lying on its side, completely incapacitated, was a small Omega. 

Dean’s eyes widened, and his jaw slowly unhinged leaving his mouth agape as the previous day started assaulting his memory in a cascading motion: Attending the auction with Benny, buying a retired fighting dog, travelling home then tying said dog to the porch last night, and to finish off, drinking himself into oblivion. Holy shit, he had bought an Omega yesterday, and it had been out here all night and it now was close to 2pm.

Dean was impaled to the spot, having absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. He noticed that his presence had frightened the Omega, causing him to startle and jump, and renew his attempts at escape, painfully choking himself on the collar and struggling relentlessly against his binds.

Christ he’d bought a pet, how could he have forgotten?!

Taking in the sight of the Omega, Dean winced. The dog had obviously woken in a state of panic and started to claw at his chains. His neck was covered in self-inflicted scratches, some deep enough to have drawn blood which had weeped down his neck. He was filthy and covered in a sheen of sweat, sun turning his skin slightly pink.

Poor thing, Dean could see along with the scratches the Omega had been attempting to yank the collar from his neck. Bruising blossomed and spread deeply underneath. How terrified this Omega would have been, waking up alone and bound in a strange place. Dean sighed, he should have been here when he woke up.

The Omega was trembling, eyes widening as Dean edged closer. In an attempt to warn him away, the dog bared his teeth and hissed. 

“God I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry. It’s okay it’s alright, I’m here now okay let’s get you out of these chains huh? You weren’t meant to be out here for this long.” Dean was solemn.

Dean reached out to stroke his pet’s hair but the Omega flinched back; head cracking painfully against the porch fence and face contorting in pain.

“Shit, it’s okay it’s okay” Dean cooed and whispered, “just going to untie you and get you out of the sun for a bit okay.”

That was now Dean’s biggest worry, as the Omega had been lying out in the heat all afternoon. As he reached out again to get to the collar, the Omega snapped and bit down hard onto Dean’s hand, clamping his jaw tightly. Injuring part of Dean’s little and ring finger and knuckle, he shouted out in surprise. “Ow! Fuck!” Dean tugged on his hand but the Omega was unrelenting. Thinking his fingers were about to be bitten off, Dean reacted quickly when the pressure increased by backhanding the Omega’s face hard for him to release his hand. 

Retracting his hand into his chest as the Omegas head snapped to the side, Dean surveyed the damage, thumbing the indentations the Omega had created. No broken skin at least. Stunned, Dean stared down at the bound dog. The Omega continued to panic and struggle, hyperventilating while wild eyes stared back at Dean. The blue eyes Dean had so wanted to see were shaded with fright. The Omega was out of his mind. “Calm down”. Dean watched as the Omega continued to recoil in panic.

Not wanting to call Benny so soon, Dean once again attempted to unlock the Omega, but anytime he got close the Omega lashed out. Snarling and growling, to the point Dean thought he would start frothing at the mouth.

The knitted blanket Dean had left out had creased into a mound at the Omega’s feet during his erratic movements. Dean wondered if it offered any reprieve to the dog during the night or if his efforts in hospitality were wasted. Suddenly getting an idea, Dean pulled the blanket and draped it over the Omega’s head, covering his face. The action did not stop the Omega’s attempts of freedom but did allow Dean to start unlocking his binds. Dean firstly unlocked the padlock furthest away from the Omega’s neck. He did want to unlock the main hindrance in his pet’s free movement, but figured from his behaviour already, it would be unwise to allow too much movement too soon. Swiftly releasing the first then the second padlocks to throw them both on the ground, Dean stood back to survey the rest of the chains, trying to be sensible in his approach and strategically unlock his pet.

Having his face covered must have been terrifying for his Omega, as his movements became even more unpredictable, legs kicking out and tangling together as whimpers escaped from his mouth. Tossing and turning ineffective against his chains, only causing his more pain and discomfort. Removing the blanket proved no success in calming the Omega down, so Dean decided the only thing he could do was just sit down in the grass and wait the panic out. A panic that Dean did not anticipate to last nearly two hours. Two hours until Dean saw the Omega finally exhaust himself out and submit to calm.

Remaining crouched on the ground but edging closer, with the Omega tracking his every move with wary eyes that were now half-lidded, Dean remembered something. Wasn’t an alpha’s scent meant to calm a distressed Omega? Edging even closer, Dean jumped when the Omega hissed. Though he didn’t move, just kept his head tilted back against the fence, chest heaving. Inching forward once more, Dean hoped the Omega would scent him.

Trying to do the same, Dean noticed the Omega didn’t smell of anything. Not even of fear, strange. Before he could delve into that discovery, Dean startled. Jumping again at another hiss, realising he had slanted in further than he had wanted, and obviously too close for the Omega’s liking as well, if his bared teeth were anything to go by.

Even with his exhaustion, Dean wasn’t certain if the Omega wouldn’t try to bite him again. First lesson and probably the most important lesson: do not trust this dog. If his history was anything to go by, Dean did not want to let himself forget that regardless of the Omega’s size or weakness, he was still a wild fight dog. Dean had to protect himself. He had been stupid in the past but he wasn’t going to be stupid now.

Dean noticed that both of the mittens that Benny had supplied had been removed during the dog’s struggles and now lay on the floor beside him. Gathering them up, Dean went to place them back on when the Omega raised his arms up in front of Dean’s face. Watching as the dog brought his hands back to his chest, trying to move them around against the cuffs as he wiggled his fingers. Perplexed Dean deciphered that the Omega was motioning he did not want them back on.

“I’m sorry buddy, but rules are rules. These gloves protect me which then protect you, understand?”

The Omega kept receding his hands back, avoiding Dean’s insistence of wearing the mittens. Stupidly Dean grabbed the Omega’s arm which then encouraged him to try and bite him again. Missing out on getting a chunk of his arm bitten off by the skin of his teeth, Dean decided to run inside and find and use a tie as a makeshift gag. The Omega not liking this turn of events opened his mouth to hiss but Dean was quick in forcing past the dog’s lips and thorough in tying the material tightly around his head. With the threat of being bitten pretty much eradicated, Dean was able to slip on the mittens without to much trouble and with only a few stifled moans from the Omega in protest.

With the Omega detained even more than before, common sense finally struck. Running inside to collect a few basic necessities, Dean thought that a bowl of water would suffice for now but was also surprised to find some Omega feed by his front door, something Benny must have left him. Glad for Benny's help, Dean grabbed a couple of bowls, his water bottle and some Omega feed, as no doubt the thing must also be starving. Hastily returning, he was dismayed to see the Omega thrashing on the ground. Eyes crazed and darting around in terror, all the while avoiding Dean. Dean started to hate this act, it was getting annoying. Surely the Omega couldn’t possibly believe after his attempts of attack, Dean would suddenly become sympathetic to his whining and squirms of discomfort.

Managing to pull the Omega upright, Dean wrapped the blanket around his tiny body before he settled him against the fence. Reaching for the water bowl, he pulled it towards him. “Okay I’m going to take out the gag so you can have some water. If you want water you’ll have to behave. If you try and bite, no water.” Loosening the tie and removing it to let it hang around the dog’s neck, Dean was surprised the Omega didn’t strike, instead sitting there pliantly, looking uncertain about what was going on. Dean guided the bowl to the Omega’s lips for him to drink from and the Omega flinched back, knocking the bowl out of Dean’s hand and head once again cracking back onto the fence.

With the water spilt, Dean sighed, “It’s okay, it’s water… see?” Dean took a sip from the bottle himself before pouring some more into the bowl. “You must be parched. Don’t try and resist it, it’s not going to hurt you.”

Dean once again brought the bowl to the Omegas lips and once again the Omega refused. “What’s the problem? Tell me what you don’t like about this?”

The Omega just stared back at Dean, frowning at him. Eyes darting back and forth from the ground and his mouth as he spoke.

“What’s wrong? Come on, you’ve got to work with me here!”

The omega struggled to raise his mitten clad hands in front of Dean’s face as he looked on intensely. Fingers wiggling around, the movement could be seen beneath the material. 

“What is that? What are you doing? You want out of the cuffs? Huh? Because I can’t do that.” 

The Omega continued on with his weird display, sulking at Dean. Becoming exasperated with the Omega’s unwillingness to properly communicate, Dean decided just to leave the replenishment for now and get the Omega into some shade. Unsure whether he should bring the Omega inside, after looking over the field, he reasoned the Barn would be a more ideal place to keep him.

Unlocking the final padlock and releasing the chain from the fence, Dean gently tugged to get the Omega to stand up with him. “Come on, up.” The Omega stared back, frowning at Dean instead of moving. With another tug Dean stated “Stand up.” 

The Omega continued to disregard Dean’s request. Thinking he may have been too polite, Dean gave a harder tug on the chain, pulling up and causing the Omega’s neck to strain upwards but neglecting to get him moving his body. Hating the stubborn resistance, Dean yanked the chain hard. The Omega choked and raised himself on his knees to accommodate the pain and lack of air. “There we go we’re half way there, but still not good enough.” Grabbing the chain at the base, Dean pulled and physically picked the Omega up, holding him in the air by the chain before dumping him on his feet. 

The Omega’s legs gave out and Dean watched as his new dog crumpled to the floor, heaving and pawing at the collar. Dean leaned down to shout “Stand up.”

Another startled look was all he got in response.

Jesus the Omega was still disobeying, and by this point Dean’s patience was wafer thin. Giving him another chance to respect his command, Dean didn’t even wait for the Omega to respond with a vacant stare before repeating his actions. Grabbing the chain by the base of the collar and pulled upwards, bringing the Omega into the air, watching as his legs kicked around under him. Dean was kicked a number of times and whether at this point the kicks were intentionally placed or just a result of the Omega’s panic, Dean didn’t care either way as he violently shook the Omega. “Stop struggling, you’re making it worse for yourself.”

Walking across the field, Dean continued to dangle the Omega from the chain attached to his collar. Anger and frustration replacing the sympathy and tenderness he had sported moments before. Dean’s hair trigger temper and the Omega’s reluctance to co-operate were not marrying together very well at all.

Managing to heave open the heavy Barn doors and enter inside, Dean dropped him onto the floor sparse of a layer of straw and hay, meaning the Omega landed with a harsh thud. The Barn was no where near ready to house his pet, the Barn was typically used by Dean as a storage space, filled with old ranch equipment and a lot of the original owners furniture still resided there, but the surroundings would have to suffice until Dean cleared a practical amount of space for a pen.

Looking down at the sight of the Omega red faced and spluttering, cuffed hands at his throat seeking release from the iron grip around his neck, Dean suddenly felt intensely guilty. Jesus he had massively over-reacted. God he didn’t know what had come over him. He didn’t really intend on the Omega suffering but the damn thing just wouldn’t listen. It was infuriating saying a command and not getting a response. Unless the thing was stupid, but even refusal for basic commands, it was incredibly frustrating. Dean believed it was just pure stubbornness. A trait he was willing to work on snuffing out. However, unsettled by his own behaviour, Dean grimaced before he knelt down to tend to the Omega, aiming to stroke his hair. The Omega flinched back and with a new found sense of movement, hurled himself to the side, where he curled up tightly into a ball, babbling nonsensically into the floor. Retracting his hand and standing up, Dean sighed. This was not how he imagined his first day of owning an Omega would go.

Deciding to leave the Omega alone for the time being was the best thing to do, Dean moved around him as he locked the end of the chain the one of the metal rings on the wooden beam at the far end of the Barn. With the Omega chained up, Dean left on the cuffs, for in his mind it was a sort of minor punishment for the display of disobedience not five minutes ago, although he did decide against gagging him in the hopes he would eat and drink. 

Retrieving the feed and water from outside, Dean placed the bowls nearby and withdrew. Deciding he had more important things to do and would have to deal with the Omega later. Hopefully in that time the Omega would calm down and rethink his decision to evade submission, because quite frankly, if he didn’t change his ways Dean was certain it would not work out well for his pet.

Striding back towards the house, travelling with the intention of calling Benny, Dean focused on his step and his objective, unaware of the crying coming from the Barn behind him.


	5. Second Attempt

Once inside, Dean collapsed backwards onto the sofa with a long exhale, cushions softening the fall. Feeling disconnected and spaced, he laid there sprawled for a minute, staring at the ceiling above him. Pulling his body weight forward to sit on the edge, Dean cradled his head in his hands, succumbing to the flow of his thoughts. God that was intense. There was something really awful about this, he had a horrible feeling he was going about this all wrong. But even with these feelings, Dean knew that Benny knew what he was talking about with his ample experience in training dogs. Therefore squashing his own feelings and listening to Benny's guidance would be the answer.

Fishing his phone from out of his pocket, Dean realised this one phone call would snuff out the flames of his dimming ego completely by calling for advice. He had imagined the training to be difficult but something he could handle. Disappointment surged as he called his friend, however he was surprised to have to join the queue of voicemails Benny had backlogged. It was only late afternoon, what could he be doing? Trying once again heralded the same outcome. Benny was seldom ever without his phone, but before Dean could think too deeply into his friend’s whereabouts; his phone buzzed the incoming of an alert.  
Benny: Date with cute blonde from diner! I’ll call by tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Dean could deal with that. Although it did beg the question of what he was going to do in the meantime. He couldn’t just leave the Omega out there. Deciding instead to find the Omega’s paperwork, he lazily looked around until he found them jammed into the back pocket of his jeans, crumpled and torn. Laying them flat onto the table, Dean attempted to iron them out with the palm of his hand before taking his first proper look at the information of the Omega he’d bought.

Name: Castiel  
Sex: Male  
Gender: Omega  
Age: 16  
DOB: n/a

He had hoped the phone call to Benny would provide some leeway into why the Omega, Castiel, was behaving the way he was. The only advice he had so far was Benny repeatedly telling him that these early days were the most important, advice which had Dean fretting about what to do. Scrutinizing the paperwork as though it was at fault for the Omega's behaviour, Dean divulged in what little information it provided. "Cas-tee-el" Dean rolled the name around his mouth, sounding it out. Strange name. Suddenly struck with a thought, Dean wondered if maybe the Omega would respond to familiarity, if it would be worth going back to the Barn to properly introduce himself. A first name basis would surely improve things. Or would it just be a pathetic attempt on his part?

Dean sat back against the sofa in an attempt to relax, but allowing the plush cushions to swallow him up were no such comfort with his mind frayed. Drumming his fingers against his knees provided him a limited distraction but ultimately wouldn’t be enough to coax him through the rest of night.

No amount of distraction could turn his mind away from how awful he had been today, like watching himself act but having no control over it. Ultimately Dean felt himself to be a coward, a weak Alpha who wasn’t even able to control and rein in his Omega. Dean couldn’t even bring himself to interact with his pet, switching any hopes of training with sulking around his house in an attempt of avoiding any further failures. 

Later that night, Dean found himself creeping into the Barn to place the knitted blanket over the Omega’s sleeping form. Quiet and with light footsteps, Dean nearly turned back three times, nervous to find the Omega awake, but upon entering, the guilt of realising just how cold the Barn got during the night he was glad of his decision to bring a semblance of warmth of comfort for his pet. Standing over the Omega, Dean felt peaceful just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and how the moonlight from an open window bouncing of his skin made him look radiant. Realising he had become entranced, he quickly checked the surroundings, noting that at least the water was gone, so Dean made sure to refill the bowl, although the Omega had only nibbled at his food, disappointing.

Slinking back to the house, Dean felt empty and alone. The quiet he once welcomed was now filled with the screech of encroaching thoughts. His mind abuzz with what his next course of action should be.

Cooking dinner seemed no good a distraction, as any available moment was spent staring out the window, a direct eye line to the Barn housing the Omega. The craving to drink was overwhelming, causing his hands to shake with just the thought of welcoming the dark liquid to enter his system and calm his nerves, but those urges were sharply cut off by the residue of shame and humiliation that lived inside him like a beacon. Unwelcome in reminding Dean of his weaknesses, but which seemed to have done the job. Shame was something which kept Dean’s poor decisions and behaviour in check.

Deciding another early night would entice him away from his demons, Dean retired early to his bedroom, not bothering with his evening shower and instead bundling himself up in his nest of quilts and blankets. Dean’s mind was far away, so far away he didn’t notice himself drifting off into a fretful night’s sleep.

**********************************************************************************

Dean woke early, spending the most of his morning pacing around the kitchen, reflecting on his behaviour. The way he had dragged the Omega by the chain was really starting to trouble him. So much so he had a restless night. Mind fixated on his lack of control over his emotions. Gripping the counter tightly, Dean watched his knuckles turn white, before releasing them.

He had prepared the Omega’s breakfast well over an hour ago, he was just unable to face him. Which was ridiculous, Dean was the Alpha. But his actions yesterday was festering in his mind. When he saw red he just couldn’t control himself and he hated himself for it.

Worry for the Omega's hunger trumping his own nerves, gingerly Dean approached the Barn. The fragments of his hangover depleted he had begun to think a little more clearly. He already felt this was going to be an uphill battle. The influence of alcohol had numbed his senses and instincts, giving his anger free reign. Wishing he could just simply start again, he just prayed the Omega would actually start to listen to him.

Dean realised for that to happen, he would have to be gentle. Deciding there and then there wouldn’t be any more alcohol. No more punishments, no more chains, just an Alpha wanting to cherish his new pet.

Entering, he could see Castiel lying on his side with his back away from the door.

Dean cleared his throat so not to startle the poor thing. “Uh, Castiel? I’ve got some breakfast for you… Castiel?”

There was no response, perhaps he was still sleeping.

Approaching, from where he stood Dean could see Castiel’s hands fidgeting underneath the mittens tangling together, movement restricted by the cuffs.

Moving towards him, Castiel jumped out of his skin when Dean touched his shoulder. Lying flat on his back, Castiel shrivelled up and stared unblinking up at Dean. His hands coming up in front of his face and he again wiggled his fingers in a motion Dean still didn’t understand.  
With no idea what he was doing, Dean decided to crouch down anyway, ignoring the little squeak the Omega let out.

Dean softly pulled Castiel up, the Omega pliant in his hands. Watching as he ducked his head as Dean pushed a hand through his stiff, sweaty hair. Doing it twice more, Dean moved his hand down the back of his head to sweep it forward, cupping Castiel’s jaw, lifting his face gently.

Looking into his eyes, Dean melted. Such a beautiful Omega, unable to help himself, Dean greedily took in Castiel’s face, noting his eyes were as calm as the blue sky before the storm, and hair as wild as the sea during one.

Castiel simply stared back at Dean. A lot of the aggression from yesterday seemed to have diminished. 

“There we are, see, much better!” Dean took advantage of his pet’s calm state, stroking his face delicately so not to spook him. “Look I know we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, I wasn’t in a good frame of mind and I’m truly sorry. I’m your Alpha, I’m meant to protect you, not cause you harm.”

Castiel looked confused, frowning at Dean and eyeing him warily. Head tilted to the side in an owl-like manner.

“I know you must still be upset, but please let me make things better okay? I’ll un-cuff you but the mittens stay on, is that okay? You okay with that?”

Castiel looked as though he was about to say something, but didn’t verbally respond. 

His frustration was starting to simmer but Dean swallowed his feelings and figured he deserved the silent treatment after the way he’d treated him.

“Okay the cuffs are coming off.”

Castiel sat quietly as Dean tended to remove the mittens first to get to the cuffs, although Dean did notice his breathing begin to pick up.

Dean tossed the cuffs to the side, hitting the floor with a gentle clink. “There we go, better already isn’t it?”

Looking down at the ground, Castiel extended the index finger of both hands and brought them together in a jabbing motion.

“What… do your hands hurt Castiel?”

Castiel continued the motion, so Dean reached out to take them in his own. The action caused Castiel to flinch but he didn’t try to pull his hands out of Dean’s grip. Dean started to rub the tender skin around Castiel’s wrists, hating how already the cuffs had rubbed his skin raw.

After a couple of minutes, Dean felt satisfied the throbbing of Castiel’s wrists would have gone. Castiel was sitting quietly, watching Dean curiously throughout the process, not even protesting as Dean finished by re attaching the mittens.

“I think it’s time you had some breakfast yeah? Then we can clean you up a little huh? Would you like that Castiel?”

Castiel once again didn’t respond, just looking at Dean like he didn’t trust him.

Unsure of what to do, Dean picked up the bowl of kibble he had placed down last night. “You hungry, you want to eat?”  
Castiel pointed at the bowl, then himself.  
“Yes it’s for you, you want it?”  
Castiel again pointed the bowl and nodded.  
“Okay great, here you go buddy.”  
Dean watched as Castiel hesitantly picked at the food that was supplied for him, all the while sneaking glances back up at Dean. Fingering the kibble curiously before placing it slowly into his mouth, something he would do for every piece. Dean got why the Omega wouldn’t trust him but damn, surely he knew Dean wouldn’t actually poison him? And with how slowly the Omega ate, obviously not.

Dean figured out the plan for the next morning as he waited for his pet to finish, sometimes having to offer small encouragements when the Omega sat back to eye Dean warily. On one occasion of encouragement, Dean actually bent over to steal a few bits of kibble and eat them himself, something which helped Castiel immensely, tucking into his breakfast with new enthusiasm. 

Chuckling at Castiel’s change of eating habits, Dean continued to make mental notes for the day. Take Castiel out of the Barn to clean him, and then set up the pen in there, so Castiel could at least return to an organised living space. Sleeping surrounded by junk was not ideal for anyone of any standing.

Dean watched as Castiel scraped up the last few pieces before sitting back on his haunches and looking up at Dean with his right hand flat with fingers touching his lips. Dean could swear there was a little smile there as Castiel he tapped his mouth twice.

“You happy now buddy? Huh is that all it was, you were hungry?”

The gaze he got back instead of any actual response was good enough for Dean. He was just thrilled to be on the right track with his pet. 

Wanting to be on a winning streak with his efforts, Dean pulled the refilled bowl of water towards his Pet, making it clear that Castiel was also allowed to drink. A confused look from Castiel had Dean leaning over to ruffle Castiel’s hair. Dean was displeased with the flinch but happy enough with the overall progress to go outside to retrieve the tub. Hoping to calm Castiel, he spoke as he worked. 

Having to quickly hose down the inside of the tub from any grime and debris which had accumulated from lack of use, Dean deemed it useable before dragging it out into an open space from away from the trees, believing Castiel would appreciate the warmth of the sun which was slowly rising its way to the centre of the sky. Running back to his kitchen, Dean filled up three of his largest jugs of hot water, going back and forth to fill it up. It seemed like a lot of work and in the back of his mind he reasoned he should just use the hose and give Castiel a cold bath, but Dean was hasty in ignoring that thought, happy to put in the extra effort. Finally finishing off with two jugs of cold water emptied into the tub, Dean tested the water to find it perfect.

Before entering the barn once again to retrieve Castiel, Dean called out, “Tub’s ready for you.” However even with the notice, Dean walked in to find Castiel jump at his presence and looking much more nervous than when he had left. “What’s wrong pet? I was just outside wasn’t I? I didn’t go too far.”

Kneeling down, Dean first removed the mittens then pulled the chain free from the lock on the beam. Ignoring Castiel’s wiggling fingers, he gently placed his arms underneath Castiel’s, Dean then helped him stand on shaky legs. Deciding not to test it, Dean was willing to keep his hands on him and help Castiel out of the barn step by step.

Reaching the tub, Dean easily lifted Castiel into the air and softly placed him on top of the water. Castiel hissed as the water made contact, but made no effort to get away from it. Dean couldn’t help but smiles as he watched the warmth of the water engulf Castiel’s little body, leaving his face a picture of pure bliss.

Giving him a moment to settle, Dean started off by pouring water over Castiel’s shoulders, letting the water sluice down his body. Almost immediately Dean found himself eager to cleanse Castiel from all his injuries and scars. Wincing at the extent of them and wondering if he should try and clean them with the flannel. The flinch and following shudder of Dean touching a particularly bad wound on Castiel’s back meant Dean decided instead to start off with his hair. Dean gently tipped Castiel’s head back and poured the jug of water over his hair, relishing in the hum of approval from his pet, he squirted a generous amount of shampoo into his hand and massaged the lather onto Castiel’s head. After a while Dean felt Castiel vibrating as he purred along with Dean’s soothing, hypnotic hands working him over. Although Dean was certain that he didn’t realise it. Content in bonding with him, Dean teased “you like that don’t you.”

Castiel ignored his jibe and continued to enjoy his bath. Dean wondered when the last time Castiel actually had an opportunity to wash, as the Omega was treating it like a luxury.

Dean was content to just sit and trail the soapy water down the Omega’s back, encouraging gentle purrs and moans from his lips was therapeutic. As Dean trailed the warm flannel up towards Castiel’s neck, he noticed something. It was a small bite mark. Dean had noticed a number of them across the expanse of Castiel’s body but this one seemed different. The teeth marks were clean, not jagged like the others suggested were inflicted during a fight, where the Omega’s would use their teeth to rip their opponent’s skin to pieces. This one was almost delicate. Dean’s observations had caused him to stop his gentle ministrations, which in turn had caused Castiel to stir out of his relaxed stupor. Without the rhythmic lull of being washed, Castiel became aware of Dean’s hesitation. 

Sitting behind Castiel, Dean leaned closer to inspect the mark. Odd, the bite was so small, smaller than even the mouth of Castiel. It wasn’t a mating mark as such but it certainly held a claim. Focused, Dean tentatively fingered at the neat rows of scarred indentations when suddenly he was assaulted with a vicious lashing of nails deeply scraping down the side of his face. Castiel had flung his hand back in a bid to retract Dean from touching his neck. Dean had been too close, and the breath of his neck only triggered Castiel in his reflexive outburst. Dean stumbled back immediately at Castiel’s rumbling growl, hand automatically reaching up to his right cheek to run his fingers along the stinging grooves Castiel had just created. Fingertips dampened with the slight tinge of red.

Dean was shocked, staring at the Castiel who had turned in the tub to hiss at Dean. The malice didn’t last long though, Dean watched as the welled up anger in Castiel’s eyes seeped out, leaving fright and uncertainty in its wake.

Castiel’s eyes trailed along the marks he had created as he took in what he had just done, unable to do anything else but stare back.  
Dean and Castiel staring at one another. Castiel wavered and turned pale, Dean was certain the Omega was about to pass out.

“I shouldn’t have been that close.”  
Big eyes just stared back, unblinking. Dean was certain the Omega had been sucked up into his own head with how unresponsive he now was. “I’m not mad” Dean tried to reassure him, but to no avail.

Castiel attached himself to the opposite end of the tub, eyes wide. Dean was uncertain of his next actions. Any movements and even words seemed to make things worse.

“Come on, I think you’re as clean as you can be.” Dean reached out towards him but Castiel had other ideas, bending so far back to avoid Dean’s touch that he nearly fell backwards out of the tub. Before that could happen, Dean grabbed him and hauled him to the safety of his chest, and not the hard ground, although by the way Castiel was shuddering and whimpering, Dean knew where Castiel would rather be.

Placing him back into the barn, Dean didn’t bother chaining him up. Letting him just sit there and watch as Dean went about clearing the area to set up his pen.

Moving around and cleaning the odd piece of furniture and any stray tool, Dean shuffled forward and caught his little toe on an old piece of ranch equipment, stubbing it. Throwing his head back, Dean let out a scream through gritted teeth. “Fuck! Piece of fucking shit! Ow! Fuck!” Hobbling around Dean channelled his pain by throwing his arms around and stringing together a number of curse words. Inspecting the damage, Dean figured if he was stupid enough to enter the barn without any shoes he was well deserved of a stubbed toe. Pain ebbing away but toe still stinging, Dean looked up to see Castiel huddled in the corner with his hands covering his head. Crap.

Hands up in a placating gesture, Dean attempted to soothe him. “Castiel buddy, I’m not angry at you, just this stupid piece of shit tool thingy. Don’t worry about it okay?”

Castiel remained huddled and trembling, avoiding any eye contact with Dean as he moved around the space, careful to avoid a repeat of his toe stubbing. Moving quickly and efficiently, Dean was able to create a reasonable space for his pet, fenced off for his protection and also Dean’s. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

Dean huffed and slumped against a beam. This certainly could have been a two man job and he bristled slightly at the thought of Benny, who could have been here. Regardless, Dean was happy to have spent some private time with his pet, although any bonding seems to have been ruined by another outburst on his part. His anger, even misplaced, could ruin a lot.

As Dean leaned back, his eyes were drawn to the beautiful blue ones that were now watching him. Standing upright, Dean gave his pet a lopsided grin, “Your home is ready little pet.”

Castiel just stared back at Dean, and when Dean stepped forward Castiel was off, scampering through the Barn on light feet to slip through the Barn door Dean had left partially open. “Shit”. Dean launched himself after him, sprinting across the Barn in no time. Not being able to fit through the gap stalled Dean, the door blocking his body, but the space giving him the perfect view of Castiel darting across his property. “Fuck” he heaved the door open with a grunt to make his chase. 

Bee lining after him, Dean was overcome with surprise at how nimble and quick Castiel was; obviously determined in his efforts to make his escape. Panting out expletives in his pursuit, Dean prayed he’d shut and locked the gate.

Castiel was running as fast as his little legs could carry him. The unexpected burst of adrenaline allowed him to push through the pain and aches of his long-term inactivity. Castiel hadn’t before had the opportunity of an escape, and he gladly took it, but the novelty was starting to wear off. Although he had had a head start, he knew eventually the man would catch him. He needed to find the road, a place to hide just wouldn’t suffice, he needed to find an exit and just keep going. Having no idea where he really was or how the big the property was left him panic stricken. Being surrounded by fields only set to confuse him, surely he was in the middle of nowhere, but even the middle of nowhere needed a main road, right?

Seeing a house, he dashed to it, and rounding the back he ran straight into something huge, something solid. Something that was able to reach down and grab him roughly. Anchoring him to the ground with pressure on his shoulders.

“Well well well, what do we have here?”

Castiel looked upwards to a bear of a man observing him with fierce eyes. The Omega was transfixed with the pale blue eyes that were narrowed and targeted at him that he was unaware Dean had caught up behind him; leaving no room for the implications of his impulsive actions.

Breathing hard and catching himself with his left hand against the side wall of his house, Dean laughed to himself, filled with pure relief “Jesus, fuck, Benny! Thank God, he’s so slippery I thought he’d make it out the gate!”

“You’re out of breath Dean.” Benny raised an eyebrow towards his panting friend.

“Little bastard caught me off guard.”

Benny surveyed the Omega, “Why was he out of his chains?”

“Left him out while I set up his pen.”

“Is that also how your face got scratched up?”

Dean automatically brought his hand up to his face, aware it was no longer stinging. “It’s not his fault, I scared him earlier.”

“And? That gives him no right to injure you Dean, Christ!”

Dean could see Benny’s anger was starting to avalanche. The protection for his friend fierce, Benny gripped the Omega tightly, digging his fingers into his shoulders, content on hearing a whine.

“Regardless, you always need to have him chained…”

Benny gripped Castiel by both his wrists, watching with humour as the Omega valiantly tried to tug himself free out of his palm restraints. 

“Oh no little one, none of that, it’s time you were finally taught a lesson!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of posts! Christmas was pretty hectic but after the New Year hoping to get more into a regular schedule!


	6. Punishments and Pushovers

“Dean, get me the shock collar.”

Dean’s face fell, momentarily stunned. “Oh no Benny, no, there’s no need for that! The way I’ve treated him in the little time I’ve had him, I can’t say I’m surprised he tried to run. Let’s just drop it and move on.”

Benny’s face was grave, eyes stern and devoid of any emotion. “Get me the collar Dean”

Dean balked at his friend’s tone, unused to Benny’s seriousness being aimed at him. “Come on man, it was a minor mistake.”

“No Dean! It wasn’t a minor mistake. You’ve allowed this little shit to not only attack you, but attempt an escape as well. This behaviour needs to be straightened out right now, and the most effective way is pain.”

Dean’s face scrunched up, eyes levelling with his friend, “I’m serious Benny, no, I will not let you use that collar on him.”

Benny looked at Dean in disbelief, “This dog attacks you and you’re pushing for leniency?!” Shaking Castiel roughly by the shoulders, Benny growled, “This little shit deserves anything I choose to do to him.”

Dean eyed Castiel, looking for signs of apology or regret. The Omega continued to pull in Benny’s grip, distracted and seemingly unaware of the impending pain he was about to be subjected to. If only Castiel would vocalise how sorry he was, or even show it. The lack of reaction wasn’t helping Dean’s attempts at letting him off and only irritating Benny further.

“Benny, I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve to be punished; I’m saying we can administer another punishment. Going straight to the shock collar seems a little severe.” Believing the conversation to be frightening for his pet, and wishing he didn’t have to overhear his potential punishment in such detail, Dean reached out to smooth his hand through Castiel’s hair, to soothe him. To his utter surprise, his attempt of affection only served as a trigger to the Omega startling, baring his teeth and hissing wildly at Dean. Withdrawing his hand quickly, Dean looked up at Benny shocked, who was staring at him questioningly.

“Dean, do you remember going to the auction and watching those dogs fight?”  
“Yes…” Dean knew exactly where Benny’s point was going.  
“And do you remember how the handlers got them under control? Collars Dean, the collars were the one thing that kept the peace. And those handlers didn’t even need to use them half the time, just the threat of the collar alone was enough for the dogs to behave. No doubt this brat has experienced them before so he’ll know to be scared and he’ll know that he’s done wrong. And if he’s smart he’ll know not to do it again.”

Dean was out of answers and out of ideas. Benny was hell bent on teaching his pet a lesson and as much as he hated it, on some level he knew Benny was right. And with how little Castiel was reacting to their conversation, and how quick Castiel was to react negatively to Dean’s attempts at comfort, he surmised that maybe his pet just didn’t care. Because if Dean were in Castiel’s shoes, and if he could hear his two handlers discussing ways to cause him pain and harm, you’d be damn sure that Dean would be doing anything he could to pacify the situation; and showing aggression by hissing is certainly something he wouldn’t do.

Resigned to the shadow of Benny’s reasoning and Castiel’s hostility, Dean submitted defeat. “Okay you win, I’m not arguing with that.”

Benny grinned, “Great, I’m glad to see you’ve got your head on.”

Dean trudged off back towards his house, parting with a wake of uncertainty in his path. Leaving Benny holding onto Castiel maybe a little bit too tightly than was needed, but he neglected to say anything; simply focusing on his uneasy stomach. As much as he didn’t want to use the shock collar, Benny’s words were ringing true about Castiel. The lack of reaction from the Omega alone had Dean wondering if Castiel even cared he was about to be punished. And if he didn’t care about that, did he even care that he’d hurt Dean? If he cared, why would he hiss at him? Hiss at the one person who was trying to protect him.

Reaching the kitchen with a different mixture of thoughts scrambling for attention in his mind, Dean pulled out the duffel bag he had dutifully stored away hastily the first night he’d brought Castiel home; eager to get the bag and its contents out of his sight. Looking inside, he sighed heavily. Shoulders sagging, for a moment, Dean considered hiding the remote control that so cruelly accompanied the collar, but Benny was insistent and would no doubt scour his house to find it. Or even return to his home to retrieve his own collar. Rather than put off the awaiting punishment, Dean brushed off any hesitation, grabbed the collar and remote and made his way outside.

Upon returning to the garden, Dean stiffened slightly at the sight of Benny backhanding Castiel. Quickening his pace, Dean fell into step behind Benny, who hadn’t waited for Dean to catch up to start marching Castiel towards the Barn. Benny’s right hand gripped tightly onto Castiel’s right arm and left hand pulling his hair back. Leaving the Omega’s neck craning back uncomfortably, causing him to trip over his feet as he was being pulled along with Benny’s strides.

Insides twisting uncomfortably, Dean called out and once again spoke of a lighter punishment, regardless of how indifferent his pet seemed to be.

Benny, intent on his mission, didn't hesitate with an answer, “Not a chance brother, if you don’t nip this in the bud this won’t be his first attempt at running, even if you treat him well. Believe me. Plus look at the state of your face, that alone calls for punishment. What happened to the mittens I gave you?”

Shame trickling into view, Dean lowered his eyes, “Left them in the pen.”

Benny tutted, “Dean I gave them to you for a reason.”

Approaching the Barn, Benny roughly manhandled Castiel into the pen Dean had set up, giving it a cursory once over. The lack of comment from the man had Dean figured he hadn’t seen anything wrong with it; a small uplift to his blundering efforts so far.

Chucking Castiel down on the hard floor with a thud, disregarding the pained wince from the Omega, Benny took the shock collar from Dean’s hands. Castiel’s eyes widened comically at the sight of it. Immediately shuffling backwards in a desperate bid to escape, his legs still tried to propel him backwards and away even after his back had hit the Barn wall. Benny huffed out a laugh and looked back at Dean, “Told you the brat would have experience with the shock collar.”

Dean was perplexed at the reaction. Castiel had heard them talking about his punishment and the collar, so why was he acting so surprised now?

Starting to cry and shaking his head desperately, Castiel put his hand up to motion to them, Dean watched in confusion as Castiel’s index and middle finger tapped repeatedly against his thumb. 

Benny looked back at Dean, just as puzzled as he was, “What is that?” gesturing to Castiel behind him with a sweeping gesture of his arm, a gesture Dean tried not to notice that made the Omega flinch. “I don’t know but he does it a lot."  
Benny rounded back on Castiel, “What’s this hand thing huh?” Benny copied him mockingly, “You don’t like us talking or what? Haha what’s this talking mouth thing you’re doing? You think it’s funny? You think it’s funny to mock me?”  
Castiel continued tapping his fingers against his thumb, Dean watching on, tense and wondering what on earth he was doing. He looked so terrified but still thought it was a good idea to antagonise Benny with an insulting gesture; it didn’t make sense.

Castiel physically shrivelled up on Benny’s approach, his hand still out mocking Benny until Benny shot his hand out to grab it and stop him. Castiel attempted to contort himself out of Benny’s grip, but was unable to do anything as Benny snapped the shock collar into place. Taking a few steps back, Benny stared down at Castiel mercilessly before he reached back to take the remote from Dean’s open palm. Dangling it in front of Dean he questioned, “You want to do the honours?” Dean was taken aback, trapping his lower lip between his teeth, he shook his head and stepped back. “Fine, this one’s on me brother, little shit trying to insult me even when he’s about to get fried, I could stand to knock his attitude down a few.”

The silence of the pen was only broken by the soft, fast breaths of Castiel. His eyes darting back and forth between Benny and Dean; a look of fear and confusion marring his beautiful features as he once again brought his hand up to motion at them.

Another moment passed before Benny’s voice, thick and commanding, broke the stillness; Dean jumped slightly.

“What did you do?”  
Castiel didn’t answer, only continuing his hand movements with his head lowered and his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. Benny snapped his fingers three times in front of the Omega’s face to gain his attention, “Hey! What did you do?” Benny repeated angrily. Castiel’s actions faltered as he raised his head slightly to look up, eyes wide, but he still neglected a response, something which pleased Benny; he wanted to hurt him. Thumb pressing hard and holding onto the button, both men heard and saw the effects of the collar.

A sickening ZAP pierced through the air causing Castiel to shriek, his body convulsing.  
“What did you do?”  
ZAP  
Castiel’s shrieks dissipated just as Benny pressed the button again on the remote, pulling out another chorus of shrieks and screams.  
ZAP  
“Huh? Answer me! What did you do? Did you run?”  
ZAP  
Benny intruded Castiel’s personal space to shove his face in his, shouting “Did you run?”  
ZAP  
Castiel gritted his teeth painfully as he face contorted in pain. Dean was certain they would crack under the pressure.  
ZAP  
“Answer me!”  
Castiel stared back at Benny, eyes watering, body trembling.  
“Run? Did you run? Answer!”  
Castiel nodded, before his head snapped back, hitting the wall behind him as another jolt of electricity travelled through his body.  
ZAP  
“Speak! Answer me! Did you run?”  
Castiel struggled to lift his head up, as his body stayed crumpled awkwardly against the wall.  
“Ruh, ruh-un” the words stuck to Castiel’s tongue before they tumbled out of his mouth. It didn’t sound quite right, almost like he had a mouthful of toffee that was restricting proper speech.  
“That’s right you ran, good pets don’t run.”  
ZAP ZAP ZAP. The alternating sound of screams and the crackle of the collar make Dean feel nauseous.  
Benny towered over him and Dean watched on as Castiel’s body was drawn tight as he jerked. Back arched rigid as the last bolts of electricity travelled through his body.

Castiel was crying, his body shuddering with his sobs. Lip bleeding from where he’d bitten it on reflex. Curling up in an attempt to get away from the onslaught, Dean looked on with great pity. He wanted to tend to his Omega and hadn’t realised he’d taken a step forward before his chest struck Benny’s outstretched arm.

“Leave him, don’t touch him, he needs to reflect on this and his actions.”

As Castiel writhed on the floor as the aftershocks of the collar prickled his nerves, Benny reached down to grab a fistful of his hair, earning another wail. Pointing in his face sternly, he warned “Do that again and I won’t be as nice.”

Following his harsh words, Benny began unfolding the Omega’s curled up limbs and began putting on the mittens and the cuffs. The treatment of restraint was far too rough, but went unnoticed by Dean, who was wrapped up in his own trance, deeply unsettled. Not being able to attach the shock collar to a chain to the ground, Benny improvised by roping the Omega’s ankles tightly together. Unaware of Dean’s inner turmoil, Benny paused for a moment, smirked then shoved his hand into his pocket to produce a ball gag. Pushing the gag into Castiel’s mouth and tightening it around his head, Benny finished off by shoving his head away. Returning to his full height, Benny smiled at his work, slapped Dean on the back with a grin before leaving the Barn, and motioning for Dean to follow. Dean held one final look before leaving Castiel restricted in movement and wallowing in his agony.

Shuffling up to his house, Dean traipsed behind Benny who had a noticeable spring to his step. 

Swinging around, Benny stopped to laugh, waiting for Dean to keep up. “Man how satisfying was that?!” chirped Benny “Seeing that intolerable brat suffer, what a rush!”  
Dean half-heartedly hummed a response, mind far away as he slipped into auto-pilot, locking onto his house as a target, and making his way there as his feet moved without instruction. Benny, in his sated manner, was oblivious to Dean’s withdrawal. “So much attitude from one pet, god he’s going to be so much fun to straighten out. That part is always my favourite, that moment when the dog submits defeat and becomes pliant.”

Reaching the porch steps, Benny declared a celebratory drink was in order and jogged up the steps and into the house. Immediately rounding the bar Benny reached for two glasses before stopping in his tracks. “Wait, will you be okay for one drink? Dean?”

Dean looked up at the sound of his name, “hmm?”  
“Drink Dean, do you want a drink?”  
“I only drink on special occasions.”  
“So drink!”

Dean had intended to flop onto his sofa, but the invitation of alcohol had drawn him to sit at his kitchen counter instead. Opposite the counter top was his friend, acting as kitchen bartender. Sitting silently, any intent of conversation neglected as his mind supplied images on a continuous loop of Castiel writhing in pain.

Pouring them both two fingers of Whiskey, Benny handed Dean his tumbler with another slap on the shoulder.  
Eying the drink reluctantly, Dean rapidly made his way through a quick fire round of excuses, but Benny’s glass raised up in cheers short circuited his attempts and he found himself raising his glass to then pouring the golden liquid over his tongue and down his throat.

Relishing the burn making its way down his throat, Dean felt himself already loosening up. A subtle warning that maybe hitting the harder stuff too soon was a bad idea but a subtle warning Dean altogether ignored. “So what, pray tell, are we drinking to?”

Benny barked out a laugh, “Dean, we are celebrating your Omega’s first steps in training. You are finally on the right track to putting him in his place and making a fine pet out of him.”

Tilting his head back to pour the drink into his mouth, Dean swilled it around, enjoying the way his tongue tingled before he swallowed the contents of his mouth in one gulp. Breathing fire, dean coughed out “I have to admit, the screams were getting in the way of me seeing any joy in the situation.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” Benny cracked another smile before downing the rest of his glass.

Watching, Dean gulped back another taste, silently thinking he never wished to hear Castiel scream like that ever again.

“I just don’t understand him. One moment he’s fine, he’s calm and he lets me touch him. The next he’s aggressive and hissing at me. His behaviour doesn’t make sense to me. I am trying Benny, I’m trying to give him a chance, but why would he hiss at me like that? Especially since I was the one trying to defend him, he didn’t hiss at you did he?” Dean sounded almost accusing.

Benny poured himself another finger of Whiskey, reaching over the counter to pour another for Dean. After a few beats of silence, Benny brought the glass up under his nose to inhale deeply, before taking a long sip of the smooth, molten liquid. Appreciating the taste, Benny licked his lips before continuing. “I know for a fact Omega’s are devious little fuckers. They play their opponents, they play their handlers and they play their owners. That dog out there knew he was about to be punished so decided that showing fear and mercy was a dead end. Probably reasoned the best way about it was to show how intimidating he was, and maybe then we’d leave him alone.”

Dean shook his head, “But that doesn’t make sense, his reaction when you got the collar out? He seemed terrified.”

“Fight dogs are known to feign illness and weakness when up against stronger opponents. Makes the opponent lower their guard, and even more dangerously, coaxes the opponent to approach them. Every single ending to that situation is the Omega getting the upper hand.” Benny placed the glass none to gently onto the counter, eyes serious and demanding. “Dean, listen to me, I know it’s unsettling, but that Omega in there was playing you. It can sense your weakness, which I’m not surprised at as you’ve already shown it. Your compassion will be your downfall. Your compassion is what got your face all scratched up. That Omega out there knew exactly what is was doing, and you completely fell for its game. The only reason it showed it’s true colours of aggression was because I was there to order the correct punishment. I can guarantee he would have continued to play the sweet little Omega act to avoid any punishment from you. I show up and he hits a dead end with it.”

Dean felt exposed, and quite stupid, as Benny studied him intently. Deciding not to answer, he opted instead to take another pull of his drink, closing his eyes to avoid Benny’s own.

“You absolutely cannot let your guard down at any time. If you want to wash him, fine, tend to his wounds, fine, but you have to be almost clinical, you can’t be sensitive about it.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah Benny I washed him today, how is that me being too sensitive?!”

If Benny found any humour in Dean’s words he didn’t show it. “You not only took him out of his chains, but you were so ready to let discipline slide today, so ready to let that Omega have his way.”

Impatient, Dean interrupted before Benny could continue. “No, I just felt that shocking him half to death was too much for a first time offence.”

“Today, I saw your pet was the one in control. Not you. Not only had he injured you, he also managed to trick and charm its way past your defences to even attempt an escape! And to make matters worse, he has you wrapped around his finger so tightly already he very nearly avoided punishment.”

“Benny, look, I know you’re experienced with this but, I think you’re wrong. Castiel didn’t hurt me on purpose, he didn’t trick me, I scared him today and I stand by the fact that I understand why he ran.”

“Dean, will you listen to yourself? How many times do we have to go over this? That dog is a fight dog, do you really think he could be accidentally scared by you? An experienced dog fighter scared by you?”

“I know what I saw, Castiel has startled a number of times, he’s obviously on edge around me.”

“Castiel huh? That his real name or a name you gave him?”

“His name was on his papers.”

“Interesting that you’re using his real name, Dean.”

“What now?” Dean was tired of the scrutiny. “How is me using his real name a problem?”

“Not really a problem I suppose,” Benny shrugged slowly, “Just tells me your being too familiar with him. You’re going about it the completely wrong way if you think you’ll win him over by being his friend.”

Benny reached across the counter to grab Dean’s hands in his own. “Dean, I don’t want to cause you any embarrassment. I’m really not, but I’m telling you that Omega is calculated. It’s poked holes in your weaknesses and will now do anything to manipulate you. It’s just how these dogs work. They’re not to be trusted. Which means you cannot be his friend, no matter how much you want to be, it just won’t work. You’re his master, not his friend.”

Dean frowned, unsure of what to say. Today had been so great, but Benny was causing so much doubt. Seeing the thought process behind Dean’s eyes, Benny carried on, stroking Deans hands to ease him into what he was about to say. “Yes today was a mess of stupid mistakes but it’s also something you can learn from. You need to be strict, you need to discipline and most importantly show that Omega who is boss. Because I hate to say it Dean, right now that dog is pulling the strings. I can guarantee right now he’s plotting his next move.”

Dean retracted his hands away from Benny’s, exasperated. “Benny can you hear yourself? ‘Plotting’, ‘manipulating’, ‘pulling the strings’… it’s like you’re talking about a criminal mastermind, not some poor, helpless fight dog that’s sitting in my Barn chained up.”

“That right there! Dean, he’s not helpless, chained up yes, but not helpless. This way of thinking is what you need to change. You need to see that dog for what he really is.”

Dean’s mind was working overdrive, trying to connect Benny’s words to the imagery of the scene in the Barn earlier. Castiel could not have faked that response, no way. The screams, the crying, the pain, it just wasn’t possible. Or was it? No, it was impossible, the Omega out there was not some cunning mastermind, he was a pet that enjoyed Dean’s gentle touches and soft words. Deciding to neglect passing the information onto Benny, Dean sat silently, supervised by Benny’s lingering touches, words of guidance and the occasional refill of his glass. 

However, slowly, reluctantly, Benny’s logic was knitting together inside Dean’s mind. It explained Castiel’s behaviour, his lack of reaction to the discussion of punishment, the aggression. Maybe it was all a ruse to keep Dean’s defences down. Disappointed and humiliated by his own stupidity, Dean fell into a spell of sombre thoughts; the frequent action of the glass touching his lips going unnoticed.

After some time had passed, Dean was jostled out of his reverie by Benny getting up to place the empty bottle in the sink. Dean blearily looked down at his glass, confused but not quite intoxicated. “Was that bottle new? Did you open it?”

Benny didn’t move from where he had been staring out the window, back remaining towards Dean. “Yeah it was new. Didn’t intend to drink so much, but I find that good whiskey helps guide important conversations.”

Instead of focusing on the spill of his sobriety, Dean focused instead on his friend. “Thanks Benny, for being here. I may not understand the madness to your methods but you have helped me learn a lot today. And more importantly you did do me a solid catching him when he ran.”

Benny turned at that, eyes softening. “You’re truly welcome Cher, you know I’m here for you. Look, I know it's been difficult trying to rein your pet in but believe me, you'll get there. Plus that little shit running was just bad timing on his part and good timing on mine. To think if I was five minutes later, he may well have made it to the main road! Which is why I’d urge you to keep him locked tight in that collar for a few days, really ram that lesson in.”

Dean hummed another response, then suddenly, something occurred to him, eyes widening at the thought, “Why didn’t you take the shock collar off?”

Benny smirked, “Another control tactic. All this time he’ll be on edge whether or not he’ll be shocked again. Sometimes the mental punishment is far more delicious than anything physical, wouldn’t you agree Dean?”

Dean nodded absently. “So, what happens next? We just leave him out there?”

Benny moved away from the kitchen and away from Dean to plop himself onto the sofa, “I’m hoping you recorded the game, because I plan on sitting here with you, drinking a few beers, and then staying the night, if you want the company.” Benny waggled his eyebrows and Dean laughed at his friend and moved to join him on the sofa. His friendship with Benny had always been a little bit more than conventional, but it was something he would never change; gladly joining him on the sofa for some downtime.

Distracted by his friend’s company, the entertainment of the game and the buzz of an extra few beers, Dean disregarded the evening drawing in and the sky going dark. Any stress or worry melting away and thoughts of Castiel lay forgotten.


	7. A Reaction of Intensity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! Really appreciate it :)
> 
> From the comments I see mainly dislike of Benny, Dean's stupidity, and hopes of Dean breaking away from the bad influence. Just a warning to readers that, unfortunately, Dean won't see sense anytime soon. In later chapters it will get worse before it gets better... so keep that in mind.

Three o’clock struck and the chimes of the grandfather clock echoed down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the living room; where they were ultimately swallowed up by Dean’s senses. Groaning, Dean lifted his heavy head from where it was smushed against the sofa cushion, warm with drool and sticky against his left cheek; to sit up on the edge of the sofa. Behind him, Benny was stirring, eyes fluttering open. “Hmpph, Dean? What time is it?”

“Just gone three.” 

“PM?”

“Is the sun normally out at 3am Benny?”

Benny rolled over, facing Dean with a lazy smile, “S’pose not. Man, I slept like a log, I haven’t slept this well in ages.”

“God you overreact, you drank twice as many beers as I did, you weren’t asleep you were passed out.”

“Maybe so, but passed out or not I actually feel refreshed. Plus I seem to be lacking a hangover so that's another plus” With a languid stretch of his back, making sure to crack each vertebrae, Benny considered a thought before talking, “You fancy some brunch or something? I can’t stay too long but I’m absolutely starving, I need bacon. Bacon and coffee.”

“Oh yes, now that is something I need. I’ll go put the coffee on, you sort the bacon.”

Stomach audibly grumbling on cue, Dean patted his belly before a realisation trickled into his consciousness. Gasping, “Oh shit! Benny, I didn’t leave any food out for Castiel! God he must be starving I-”

Benny whipped his hand out to hold it in front of Dean’s face. “Calm it brother, one night won’t do nothing.”

“But he will be hungry and he’ll think I did it on purpose.”

“Only good pets get fed Dean, and that’s what he’ll know. Come here.” Benny grabbed hold of Dean’s arm to pull him back down onto the sofa. “And enough of this ‘Castiel’, you need to start calling him something else. If it’s easier just stick with Pet.”

Dean pulled a face, “But I like Castiel.”

Benny returned the sour look Dean was giving him, then patted him on the cheek, “Cher, you need to like the name Pet better.”

Dean smirked, eyes teasing, “Or what about Cher?”

The playfulness in Benny’s features bled out, leaving him hard faced. “Not even a consideration Dean.” Removing himself from his position on the sofa was followed by Dean immediately groaning, obviously unhappy with the warmth of Benny fading as he watched him disappear into the kitchen. Laying back listening to the soundtrack of the clang of pots and pans, Dean felt a little bit like a scolded child, however, shortly after, the smell of coffee lured him into the kitchen to join Benny for a cup.

The bitterness always a reprieve to his hangovers, although today the after effect wasn’t too noticeable, just teetering on the edges of his consciousness, so it was something Dean gladly ignored, choosing to not think about how much he’d drank last night and opted to only think of the pleasant company Benny had provided him with. Quietly, Dean watched as Benny prepared the bacon, squidging the slices of meat between his fingers to transfer them to the hot frying pan. Not reacting to the slight spray of hot oil on his hands.

“Benny, I was only kidding.”

“I swear Dean, that Pet of yours is no Cher to you.”

Sidling up behind Benny, Dean contemplated his next move. Crossing his arms, Dean placed them on Benny's back and lent against him, chin coming to rest on his shoulder “You’re right, he’s my Pet, nothing more.”

Dean knew that would earn a small smile from his friend, Benny loved his affections. Swatting behind him, Benny gently chided “Go sit, bacon’s nearly ready.”

Taking a seat, Dean watched as Benny served up two plates of Bacon rolls, and two more cups of coffee. Staring at Benny but unsure how to move the conversation forward through the awkwardness, Dean settled on just sitting in the quiet, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Benny spoke. Chewing his way through a mouthful of bread and bacon, not a few minutes after did Benny break the silence of uncomfortable eating, “After breakfast I want to test if the dog will run if given the chance.”

Eyes darting up to meet Benny’s, Dean was curious, “How can we do that?”

“We untie him, we leave, we wait.”

“So like a trap?”

“Yes and no. It’s just to see his reaction to being set free. For instance, my two dogs have been trained to never leave the threshold of my house. Unchained they have the freedom of the house without me worrying they’ll escape.”

“Wow, so your pets are unchained at all times?”

“Yes Dean, see that’s what good training achieves, trust in your pet and freedom for you both.”

Dean hummed in awe, imagining life with Castiel through a lens of freedom. That was something he wanted. Just such a shame his pet was being so difficult. Gulping back the remains of his coffee, Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up, scraping the bar stool across the floor out and away from him. “Could you show me what to do? I don’t want to get it wrong.”

“That’s what I’m staying for brother, I’ll show you the ropes before you go at it alone.”

Smiling at his friend, Dean felt the seed of excitement grow within him. The idea of training going well and Castiel being trained enough to be allowed inside unleashed, the thought made him giddy.

The giddiness was short lived though once both men got outside and the Barn came into view. Like a looming shadow, any associating thoughts extinguished any excitement and replaced them with hesitation and doubt. The reality and fantasy of the situation at hand were squaring off in Dean’s mind. The constant sparring of right and wrong was nothing but confusion for Dean, and listening to his feelings never helped. His emotions towards Castiel were constantly changing and evolving, it was making his head spin.

In his lumbering while deep in thought, Benny had strode off ahead, reaching the Barn first and hauling the doors open. Dean quickened his pace to close the gap, not wanting to leave Benny alone with Castiel, even if it was for a few seconds.

Crossing the unsettling threshold, Dean hovered by the door as immediately his heart panged. Castiel was curled up on himself, limbs folded and tucked in to provide himself comfort. Upon seeing him and the empty food bowl, Dean felt strange. He wanted to comfort him but Benny’s talk yesterday and this morning had him once again second guessing himself.

Not understanding his friends hesitation, Benny moved back from the pen and towards the door, questioning and encouraging, “Come on, this is baby steps Dean.”

In worry Castiel would be savvy to his plan, Dean spoke lowly “Should I go and remove his collar?”

“He’s still asleep; you need to wake him up first. He needs to be awake to see what we’re doing, but don’t tell him your intentions, in fact, don’t even speak, just approach him, unchain him, then leave.”

Dean hesitated slightly before he made his way towards Castiel. As he approached, there was no movement from his pet, nor sound. Tentatively, Dean knelt down on his right knee and reached out to touch Castiel’s shoulder, gently jostling him awake. Castiel stirred slightly; face crumpling up before smoothing out and dark eyelashes flickering, signalling his impending consciousness. Dean waited, hand firm on Castiel’s shoulder, and after immediately feeling Castiel tense up and seeing his eyes going wide, Dean softly spoke. “Good morning my pet.” For a moment Castiel didn’t move, Dean watched on as Castiel finally looked up at him. 

“There we go! Okay Cas- okay pet, I’m going to unlock your collar. You did very well taking the punishment yesterday and it’s time it came off. How do you feel about that? Do you want it off?”

Castiel, unable to hold eye contact, dropped his eyes to the ground. In response Dean tucked a finger under his chin to raise his face. “Come on now, none of that pet, you’ve been a good boy taking your punishment, so let’s get you unchained.”  
Putting his left knee down, Dean gripped his Pet’s shoulders and helped Castiel sit up, leaning him back against the wall as he tended to him. Deciding first to wipe the drool which had accumulated on account of the gag, Dean followed by removing the gag, grimacing slightly at how tight Benny had tied it the day before. Red grooves had form behind his ears, leading into his hair, leaving a long kink. Once the ball was removed Dean cooed, “That’s much better isn’t it?”

Castiel didn’t respond, which was fine, Dean understood how awful the previous day had been for him. 

Next, Dean’s fingers moved up to the collar, causing Castiel to panic, flinging his head back harshly and away from Dean’s hands. “Relax pet, I’m taking it off.” Again going for the collar proved difficult as Castiel repeated his actions in his fright. “No, stop that.” Dean spoke calmly. Pausing for a moment, Dean once again touched the collar for Castiel to shudder and tense up, baring his teeth in a grimace. Sensing Benny’s presence behind him, Dean reacted in a flash of anger, “That’s enough!” hand shooting out to grab Castiel’s jaw, squeezing his cheeks in his grip. “I’m trying to get it off, what don’t you understand about that?”

Wide, terrified eyes just stared back at him, until Castiel lowered them and murmured something. Hesitantly, Dean released his hold, “What was that?” Castiel didn’t reply, just tucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, a single tear dropping down his face. Sighing, Dean gave a breathy apology, deciding to stroke his pet’s hair to calm any misgivings.

“Dean.”

Startled, Dean turned to see Benny glaring at him, gesturing with his head for Dean to get on with it.

Deciding to remove the collar last since it was causing the most problems, Dean went ahead to un-cuff the delicate wrists, trapped and weighed down by the harsh metal. Cursing under his breath, Dean still felt this was all wrong. The cuffs clanging to the ground had Castiel once again looking at Dean, this time Dean was certain there was a glimmer of curiosity there. Smiling at him, he started stroking Castiel’s hair, lulling the Omega into a false sense of security, which then allowed him to slowly reach down with his other hand to unlock and release the shock collar. Dean expected the loud snap had frightened Castiel, causing him to flinch. “Shhh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Dean couldn’t help but gently finger his Omega’s neck, which was red raw and slightly singed. Winching, Dean moved his hand to the back of Castiel’s neck, thumb gently stroking behind his ear as he was locked in eye contact with him. Those eyes were so hypnotic, Dean nearly forgot the presence behind him.

“Christ’s sake Dean, this was meant to be a simple manoeuvre, not you coddling him. And what did I say about not speaking a word?”

Benny’s telling off had Dean jumping slightly, though Castiel didn’t react. Strange. Returning to a standing position, Dean gave one final pitying look down at his Pet; whose eyes did not return the gaze, but instead fixed onto the floor in front of him, and turned back to Benny, who had one eyebrow raised at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

That ‘nothing’ felt heavy in the air between them as they stepped out the Barn and made their way north of the door. Benny and Dean were always in tune with one another, and Dean knew that Benny was privy to his sensitivity.

“You’re a sensitive soul Dean.”

Dean knew being sensitive was not something to be embarrassed about, but the words still stung. “Pack it in Benny! What was I supposed to do? Just yank it off him? He’s my pet, I’m allowed to comfort him.”

“Gotta be careful with that whole comforting thing during the training stages Dean. Don’t you remember what I warned you about? Omega manipulation is common practice. And it seems you are falling right under his spell.”

“Omega manipulation sounds like the biggest croc of shit” Dean muttered under his breath, but the thwack at the back of his head by a heavy hand let him know Benny had heard him.

Scowling and rubbing the sore spot, Dean followed Benny’s tread to a tree just 50ft from the Barn doors. Dean nearly tripped as Benny stopped and held his stance, deciding their location to be the optimum position for their mini stake out. “We’ll give him half an hour. If he makes a break for it we’ll be able to catch him from here.” Benny started to fiddle with his wristwatch, a thick finger tapping the keys to input the correct time.

Dean stood, watching him, “If he makes a break? Weren’t you certain he wouldn’t run Mr. IknoweverythingthereistotrainingOmega’s”

Benny smirked, “Trust me he won’t. But it’s always sensible to have precautions and back up plans. This dog has shown very unpredictable behaviour in the few days you’ve had him. I am not taking any chances.”

The next five minutes were held in silence. Benny motivated to keep his concentration, eyes peeled for any signs of movement or sounds. Dean occasionally tried to butt in with trivial conversing but each time was met with a sharp rebuttal, along with a rude hand in his face. Eventually, Dean slipped into the silence of concentration with Benny, eyes and ears becoming alert to even minor sounds. As Alphas, Dean and Benny’s hearing and sight were spectacular. Particularly when in or close to rut, an Alpha’s senses would become almost extraordinary.

After twenty minutes, Benny started to become irritable. Finding the inaction slightly boring and somewhat worrying. “I can’t hear anything. I’m actually starting to get paranoid he slipped out the back somehow and we’re just listening to an empty Barn. Maybe we should have split up and both taken different positions.”

Dean frowned at Benny’s words, not taking his eyes of the Barn doors. “No, he’s still there, I can hear his heartbeat.”

Benny looked over to Dean, incredulous. “You can hear his hear beating, seriously?”

Dean gave him an equally incredulous look, “You can’t? Benny it’s almost beating out of his chest and like a drum in my ears, can’t you hear it?”

Benny’s eyes widened briefly, before returning to strain his senses. Nothing, accept the slight rustle of the wind and the leaves dancing around the grass.

“Anything?” Dean was openly curious.

Benny shook his head no. “That’s strange” Dean thought out loud, “you must be more hungover than you thought if you can’t hear something as loud as that.”

Benny growled, not liking passes to be made against his ability and skills as an Alpha. Deciding to instead go along with it, Benny was too late as his watch signalled that the half an hour was up.

“Guess we’ll see if your little training trick has worked.” This time Dean was the first to stride off, with Benny trailing behind, still grumbling about his lacking of Alpha senses.

Slowly walking through the doors, Dean ears rushed with the sounds of a beating heart and quick, uneven breaths. In the pen, there the Omega was and there the Omega had stayed. In fact, Castiel hadn’t moved a muscle, he was still in the same position Dean had left him in on the floor. Walking up behind him, Benny spoke into his ear, “Well he absolutely exceeded my expectation, what a good pet. Go and praise him Dean. The timing of the praising is just as important as the punishments.”

Easing his way into the pen, slowly, Dean approached the trembling Omega with his right hand held out in front. Crouching, Dean bent down onto his haunches, to shuffle his way closer and closer. The entire time Castiel looked to be in a complete state of confusion, hands hovering above his head as though to protect himself from Dean’s encroaching presence. “Hey there Pet, what a good boy you were. There we go what a good boy!” Reaching his Pet, Dean levelled his hand above Castiel’s head, watching as Castiel’s eyes tracked his hand, staring up unblinking, fear etched on his face. As Dean lowered his hand, Castiel flinched at the movement, neck bending uncomfortably as he tried to get away from the offending hand without actually moving his body. Dean continued the slow movement down, until his hand quietly found its way into the mess of dark hair, to begin slowly moving through it in even strokes. 

Repeating the soothing movement, Dean continued to coo and praise his pet. Every word of praise was full of meaning. Dean truly was happy with the outcome of his Pet’s training. Dean saw that his genuine praise and attention combined with the soft petting had Castiel melting under the guide of his soothing hands. Smiling, Dean found the repetitive movement enjoyable and even somewhat satisfying. Before, Dean could never understand how people liked to be responsible of Pets, caring for them, being in control. But this moment, this sweet moment was almost therapeutic, and the gentle rumble of a purr from his Omega was a tonic for his soul. 

Hoping to coax out more sweet sounds, the moment was cut short by a cough behind him. The disgruntled gesture told Dean that Benny was judging him, and for a split moment he didn’t care, but then the creeping doubt started to cloud his mind so reluctantly he stopped and stepped back. Castiel’s eyes were still closed, head tilted to the side, the ghost of Dean’s hand still caressing him, Castiel wanted to soak up every moment of affection from the strange Alpha.

Dean hovered, not moving and not sure what to do, feeling strange as he looked down at his Pet. “Dean, you need to chain him up again.” Dean looked up at Benny's words. “Surely the cuffs will be enough.”

Benny exhaled loudly, “Dean, chain him.” Finding the original collar that Dean had neglected in exchange for the shock collar, Benny ensued to hand it to Dean, giving him a stern look. Initially rejecting it, Dean spoke up. “Can’t you do it, he already doesn’t like you.”

“Dean, you’re his Master, not me.”

Seeing the sense in Benny’s sensible approach, Dean reluctantly took the collar from Benny’s waiting hands and turned around to face Castiel, who was still sitting limply, with his eyes closed. Crouching in front of him, Dean decided to just get it over with, avoiding any eye contact with the confused, pleading eyes that were now staring up at him, to simply lock the collar into place and turn his back to him. Dean was starting to understand Benny, too much affection too soon may turn out to be a negative. Collar secure and chain attached into the peg in the ground, Dean and Benny both were confidant the Omega would be going anywhere. Looking at his small form, Dean felt a pang of guilt which was immediately filtered out by Benny’s praise at how he handled the situation sans affection. “Brilliant Dean, no stalling, no babying, no unnecessary lingering touches, just straight to the point.”

Walking out of the Barn side by side, both men continued amicable conversation up to the house, Benny vocal in praising Dean’s efforts. Although Dean was certain Benny’s praise needed to be directed more towards his Pet than himself. Patting Dean on the back, Benny noted how sweaty Dean was, teasing him, “How nervous were you back in there? Huh, you know dogs can sense fear right.” Chuckling Benny ignored Dean’s grumpy glower.

“I wasn’t nervous you ass, I don’t know, I just feel a little hot is all.”

Continuing with the playful jabs, Benny and Dean fell into a pleasant back and forth of upcoming plans and friendly banter, with Benny reminding Dean that he shouldn’t see his Pet until the following morning. Dean agreed, not wanting to ruin the progress they'd achieved today. However, until upon reaching the porch, the first step onto wood seemingly triggered a buried though, “Benny, Castiel’s food, I need to get back down there with it.”

“No worries Brother, I need to be heading out anyway so let me take care of it, you just get yourself inside and take a shower or something, your soaking through your shirt.”

Dean patted the cotton material, feeling his shirt dampen and stick against his skin. “Yeah thanks man, I need a change of shirt.”  
Entering the kitchen, Dean quickly prepared a bowl of kibble and filled another with fresh water, handing them to Benny with thanks and a request of him coming around again in a few days. Benny happily took the bowls and was agreeable to coming around again.

“Thanks again Benny, I’ll text you later alright.”

“No problem, Dean, you just freshen yourself up, you’re starting to stink there boy.” 

Tempted to take off his shirt to throw it at his friend, Dean laughed and turned to jog up the stairs, shouting down for Benny to shut the kitchen door on his way out.

Hand raised in a mock salute alongside a “No problem Dean”, Benny hovered in the kitchen, waiting for the bathroom door to shut and the unmistakable sound of running water before he moved, out the kitchen, down the porch steps and towards the Barn. Looking back over his shoulder, Benny hurried his pace with a clumsy hold on the bowl, uncaring about the stray pieces of kibble falling out. Pushing the Barn door open with his shoulder, Benny paused at the door, just watching the Omega. The dog hadn’t noticed him yet, and Benny leered, he was hoping to catch the Omega off guard. Approaching the trembling form, Benny placed the bowls down before lunging forward to grab the dog by the hair, thrilled to hear the squeal that was produced. Turning the Omega easily in his grip, Benny smiled down at the petrified face in front of him. “Whatever game you’re playing, just know that I’m smart enough to see through it.” Castiel didn’t respond, too terrified to move. “It would serve you well to remember who is in charge around here, and it certainly isn’t you.” With a crack, Benny whipped the palm of his hand down to slap Castiel around the face. Tears streaming and lip trembling, Castiel whimpered. “Did you understand what I said? Huh?” Castiel stared up at Benny, frozen in shock. Shaking him violently, Benny continued to harass him, waiting for an answer until he was seemingly satisfied with a broken sound of “Yye-yeash”.

Feeling particularly cruel, Benny pulled Castiel along with him, wanting to note how far the chain extended. Castiel choking and gagging signalled the end of the line, so Benny dropped him, retrieved the bowls, and moved to place them just out of Castiel’s reach. Smiling, Benny snickered down at the dog, who was silently crying. “Enjoy your dinner, bitch.” Benny didn’t spare a glance towards the dog, or even a thought, as he exited the Barn, crossed the field or as he hauled himself into his truck. Devoid of any guilt or regret, Benny paused to find an appealing radio station before starting his truck with a low rumble, and driving away. Barn in the rear view mirror growing smaller and smaller until eventually disappearing out of sight as Benny adjusted the mirror’s position. Barn away from sight and forgotten, Benny drove home, looking forward to be greeted by the Pets of his own. 

Showering hadn’t initially helped. Dean had sat in the shower for forty minutes in hopes the hot water would ease the ache he was experiencing. However, once the water started to run cold, Dean relished the water rinsing over his heated skin. Typically, Dean avoided cold showers if he could, but this was heavenly. Another twenty minutes under the cold spray and Dean was feeling so much better. Stepping out, Dean dried out and made his way into his bedroom, going to the window to see if Benny had left. Benny obviously would be long gone, but the habit of checking for Benny’s car had been ingrained. 

Changing into a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, Dean lounged around on his bed for exactly 3 minutes before becoming irritable and agitated. Pacing around his room, Dean felt equal parts pent up and bored. Wanting to do something but not wanting to do anything, Dean ambled down to the kitchen, in hopes of finding a suitable snack. But in his efforts, nothing seemed satisfying enough, even as he eyed up the remaining beers in the fridge, alcohol wasn't even tempting enough to be drunk. Not knowing whether that was a sign that he was really seriously ill or his sobriety was simply improving, Dean shut the fridge to flop down onto his sofa, aimlessly flicking through the channels. 

Becoming more and more antsy, and starting to feel himself sweat through his clean shirt, Dean stepped out onto the Porch, hoping the cooler air of the impending evening would cool him down. Once outside Dean suddenly got the urge to go for a walk. Since having returned home with Castiel, Dean had been unable to follow his evening protocol of walking the perimeter of his property. He savoured those walks. The sunset combined with the fresh air sobered his thoughts. However, a fresh mind allowed the negativity to inevitably slink into view. Dean had always found himself very fond of Benny. Their friendship was paramount in Dean’s revival into a normal life. Dean owed a lot to Benny, so if he had to put up with his teasing and if Benny was the one to occasionally put a drink in his hand then so be it.

Standing on his porch, Dean quickly decided to divest himself of his t-shirt, feeling far too hot, despite the cool wind prickling his arm hairs. Folding his shirt and placing it neatly by the door, he then stepped down onto the field. Dean took the time to wiggle his toes, gripping them into the grass. Such a simple movement grounded him. The constant battle of motivation and shame kept him detached, but Dean had quickly found that nature was a brilliant way to bring his mind back into his body. The breeze around him encouraged him to move, making his way first to the empty chicken coups; stopping to analyse the damage, no doubt caused by foxes. Reaching out to finger the splintered wood, Dean mentally noted in an open tab he would love to get around to fixing it, with the possibility even of keeping his own chickens. In fact, he planned on turning the entire Ranch around. The property had a dullness to it Dean could never explain. He urged himself to pull back its vibrancy, and was certain in doing so would mean bringing the Ranch into working order. It would be a gargantuan task that initially left his mind reeling with the amount of work and effort that would be needed. But he was certain the work would pay off. 

With his mind wandering, Dean had already made it half way around the field, just a few feet short from his favourite spot. A bench that had been installed by the previous owners, the name ROBERT SINGER whose life had expanded between 1950 – 2012 engraved into the brass plate. Settling onto the bench, he inhaled deeply, and simply took in the view and his surroundings. The slowly setting sun, the chirping of birds and the gentle babble of the movement in the lake in front of him. The lake rippled delicately around a Heron, striding around the bank, picking off the foolish fish that dared swim close to it. Dean sat there, on that bench, simply breathing, until the sun slid behind the horizon, leaving an orange glow in its wake. The murmuring of the birds had settled, and the whisper of the water had soothed on the surface. 

With the suns presence gone, and the night sky developing, Dean was amiss as to why he had started to sweat. He was starting to feel feverish though he didn’t feel ill, just hot and uncomfortable. Taking a moment longer to observe the backdrop of the healing atmosphere, Dean stood and stretched out the kinks in his back. A bout of head rush had him staggering slightly, however it had seemed to have triggered a more powerful ache in his head. Deciding it would be best to return to the house and dig out his flu medicine, Dean started walking back at a brisk pace. Halfway across the field, Dean abruptly stopped. Nostrils flaring, Dean caught a whiff of something… something intoxicating. “What on earth is that?” Dean whispered, barely audible as he took another sniff. Distantly, Dean wondered of an intruder, as this scent was new, however his hatches rose for another reason, the smell was truly inebriating, and he became hell bent on scenting it out.

That sweet smell, Dean’s nose detected some floral notes, Lavender and perhaps Mimosa? Raising his head to sniff the air once more, Dean picked up on a sweet orange essence. Salivating and eyes almost rolling, Dean moaned. The scent was beautiful and completely riling him up. Stumbling a few steps forward provided him with a stronger, more intense hit. Hunger consuming him, Dean became feral. Losing most brain function, Dean followed the scent blind. The smell fogging up his mind, stirring up the Alpha inside of him. Wiping the drool that had slimed down his chin with the back of his wrist, Dean was vaguely aware of where he was heading, however was too addled to make any coherent connection.

Tripping the last few steps, Dean landed in front of the Barn. Confused, Dean wondered what could be emitting the delicious odour, as he pushed the doors open with such force the doors flew back and slammed against the walls. The brute strength of his Alpha was in full swing, but was momentarily stifled by the wafting aroma in the open space. Dean was drunk, the scent sending him into a hypnotic trance. Eyes scanning the room to locate the source of the divine sweetness, Dean came across a quivering Omega, staring right back at him. Unconsciously licking his lips, Dean smelt the air again. In his pursuit, there were traces of a sour smell lingering at the edges, but the floral scent was overpowering, removing any rational thought.

Top lip quivering, fingers twitching, Dean stalked towards the Omega. On approach, Dean growled, eyes glowing red as he reached out to touch. Grabbing his prey by the arms, Dean lifted him and brought the Omega to his face. Burying his face into the Omega’s neck, Dean scented him deeply, almost purring as he was overcome with want and need. This smell just hit home. Instincts immediately taking over, Dean began rubbing himself over the Omega he was holding tightly. Believing the whines and whimpers were brought on by shared arousal and not by fear. 

Placing the Omega back down, Dean, in his frenzy was unhappy with the metal around the Omega's neck, an offending item getting in the way of the delicious scent. Grabbing either side, Dean pulled until it snapped in two, straight off the Omega's neck. Choosing to ignore the startled wail that came from the Omega's mouth. Continuing in his craze, Dean began running his hands all over the Omega’s body. Eager and greedy to claim the small body in front of him. Hands gripped the Omega’s hair, tipping his head back as he sniffed and licked up along his neck. Humming and smiling against the skin. In the mist of his arousal, Dean could feel how hard he was, how needy he was to push himself into the warmth of this sweet Omega in front of him. Growling low in his chest, he grabbed the Omega, pulling him flush against his chest. Sniffing his hair and rubbing his cheek against the top of his head. The Omega squirmed in his grip, but Dean was holding him tightly and secure, panting “mine” over and over.

Nose twitching, he caught another whiff of the soured scent. Ignoring it to nip at the meat of the Omega’s shoulder, Dean gagged and immediately recoiled at the rancid taste. The mist cleared in a fleeting moment, for Dean to see Castiel sitting in front of him. Face streaked with tears as he trembled. Confused, Dean tried to understand what was happening. Why was Castiel here? His muddled brain couldn’t process the situation just as another wave of the aroma hit his nose, sending him into a trance once more. Salivating at the smell, Dean’s arousal simmered under the vague confusion about Castiel. These dwindling thought’s made way for a more heightened feeling, the need to knot, the need to mate.

“Omega, you smell so good.” Nosing at his neck, Dean licked up towards the back of his ear. The sour taste tingling his tongue, but not strong enough to push him away.

Man-handling the Omega onto his back, Dean looked down at his prey. Small fists started to pummel Dean’s chest, the Omega wriggling around to get out from underneath the large body. Dean growled, grabbing the dog's hands and pinning them above his head. “No, you’re mine Omega.”

Dean leaned down to plunder the Omega's mouth, tongue invading and demanding. The Omega squealed and turned his face away, until Dean grabbed his chin to force his head back, again kissing him deeply, relishing in the sweet little sounds the Omega was making. Hand travelling down his prey's soft belly, Dean’s movement halted. The Alpha in him became crazed at the thought of breeding his Omega. Amped up and charged Dean became aggressive, suddenly frenzied in his need for the Omega, and biting down on the pair of lips below him. Dean licked up the droplets of blood that had formed and started kissing his way down his Pet’s body. Humming as he went, the scent was driving him wild. Kissing the sharp hip bones, Dean licked a stripe up the tiny cock, ignoring it was flaccid. Because what he really wanted, what he couldn’t resist, was the Omega’s slick. If he smelt this good, just the thought of tasting him had Dean’s eyes rolling. Forcing his pet's legs open after resistance, Dean gave a warning squeeze for him to keep them open. Fingers trailing the soft skin, Dean mapped out his way to the Omeag's hole to find it completely dry. Breathless, Dean could feel his knot forming at the base of his cock; throbbing with anticipation to knot the Omega. Licking a finger, he circled the tight pucker, which twitched at the intrusion, but did not yield to Dean’s insisting jabs. Frustrated Dean looked back at the Omega. Trying once again Dean went to nip at the Omega’s neck, keen to get a taste, and again he was met with a foul taste. Gagging and sitting back to spit, Dean saw Castiel staring back at him, shrieking, as he scurried back to smack flat against the wall, breathing harshly. Dean sat there stunned, not sure what was happening. What was going on? As he crawled forward towards Castiel, Dean did not expect his Pet to kick out his leg to smack his foot into his face.

Face knocked to the side, Dean could only growl before another kick knocked against his shoulder. Castiel was now laying on his back, eyes screwed up and kicking wildly as he howled, landing an occasional kick against Dean’s body. The kicks from the Omega weren’t enough to really injure Dean, but they were enough; combined with the souring odour, to knock some sense into him. Mist of arousal clearing, Dean took in the scene before him. Castiel flaying about on the ground, half dressed, panicking. The scene was upsetting, but that didn’t explain why Dean was still so rock hard it hurt. The dizziness, the heat, the arousal, the overwhelming smells, the realisation hit Dean like a freight train. Dean’s rut had arrived. Not only had it hit him at a force he wasn’t used to, it was also two weeks early.

“Fuck, fuck fuck.”

Dean launched himself away from Castiel, not to avoid the blows from his outstretched legs, but to get away from his scent. Castiel smelt so good Dean wasn’t sure if he could control himself. He had never been so out of control before. “Shit I need to get out of here.” Dean moaned. Mind already feeling groggy, the need to breed and mate almost making him sick. Struggling to stand up, the ebb of a distant head rush crashed through him, causing him to lose his footing and fall.

Feeling nauseous and feverish, Dean managed to drag himself out of the Barn, the cooling breeze feeling wondrous on his face, a fleeting feeling before he slumped over to vomit. Shaking, Dean managed to stand, and with a small presence of mind, manged to close the Barn doors and lock them. His impulses and his instincts were screaming at him to break through those doors and breed the Omega inside. That Omega, that beautiful smelling Omega was tempting him, and calling out to him and Dean needed to get to him. In his reverie, Dean found himself unlocking the chains, catching himself just in time to recoil his hands back and snap them against his chest.

What is happening, that’s Castiel in there, that’s his pet. Dean, desperate to calm himself down, stumbled over to a water trough, which thankfully still held water, and splashed his face and neck. The cool water offering only minor relief, gave him a small window to think clearly. He was in rut, that much was obvious. He just couldn’t work out why he was responding so intensely to Castiel. Oh god, he was about to fuck Castiel right then and there. Trying to get his breathing under control, his body wasn't helping by thrumming with aggressive want and need, desperation causing him to quiver at the deep crave of the Omega. Through the panic, Dean remembered that this was the reason he had gotten a Pet in the first place. He needed an Omega to help him with his ruts. Licking his lips, Dean started to lose himself in the faint traces of scent that was still permeating in the air, succumbing to his body's need. Until flashes of Castiel’s terrified face prompted him to step further away from the Barn, quelling even idle thoughts of checking in to see if his Pet was okay. Dean knew that if he stepped foot in that Barn, he wouldn’t be coming out. 

Finally finding his feet, Dean stumbled back up to his house with plans of locking himself in and hunkering down to painfully wait out his rut. With his porch in sight, Dean managed to stand to his full height, grabbing his aching cock and gripping it to ease the pain. Feeling ill and with deteriorating mental clarity, Dean knew that deciding against savaging the Omega that was just within his clutches was the right thing to do, no matter how much his body was protesting. He just needed to get as far away from Castiel's scent as he possibly could. 

That last coherent thought, that last lingering moment of lucidity was all Dean had before he could realise that he was wearing Castiel's scent on his body like his own personal cologne. 


	8. The Crumbling of The Dam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a flashback which has been presented in italics.

Castiel’s scent engulfed Dean as he desperately attempted to stay motivated in keeping his feet moving one in front of the other towards his house. Panting, each desperate breath only serving to fill his lungs with the floral fragrance that had clung to his body, causing Dean to rapidly become dizzy with want; vision losing focus and blurring at the edges. Trudging forward, Dean quickly found himself losing sight of what he was meant to be doing, the smell of lavender and mimosa making him delirious. 

Falling to his knees, Dean leant forward to rest his forehead on the cool grass, gathering handfuls and rhythmically pulsing in his grip either side of him. 

The wall of his defence came crashing to a heap with one final inhale allowing the chemical changes in his body to take reign. Eyes glowing red, Dean growled, the low rumble in his chest not stopping until he was up and actioned, making his way back to the Barn with renewed vigour. Alpha senses completely taking over all functioning as he ripped the chains from the door and barrelled inside. Scoping out the Omega almost instantly, Dean’s brain was chanting “Breed, breed, breed.”

Leaving out the formalities, Dean towered over the quivering Omega before tightly fisting his hair, using his other hand to grab his jaw, prying it open. The Omega was resisting as much as he could, but that only served to turn Dean on. The Alpha in him liked the fight, liked the chase. The reward of catching his prey after a challenge was the pinnacle of being a predator. The sheer strength of Dean on top of his prey meant the Omega couldn’t hold out for long. Enjoying the fight leaving his Omega, Dean was addicted to the scent, and so close to having those sinful, full lips wrapped around his swollen cock. Hand sweeping along his jaw, then coming to cup his chin, Dean thumbed around the Omega’s plump lips, mesmerized as he used his thumb to weigh down the bottom lip before sliding his thumb inside. The Omega automatically suckled on his thumb, causing Dean to groan. He wanted this, he needed this. Removing his thumb to graze his hand back up under his jaw, Dean unceremoniously shoved his dick into the Omega’s mouth, sliding into the heat and all the way until his tip brushed the back of the dog’s throat. Hips stuttering, Dean’s head fell backwards as he marvelled at the delicious feeling of being joint with his Omega.

Wet, choking sounds came from below him, so Dean obliged the Omega oxygen by pulling back slightly. Giving the dog a few seconds of much needed air flow before shoving himself back into the velvet heat. Groaning, Dean could feel his knot already forming. For Dean this was bliss, and he idly wondered why it was so wrong. Succumbing to his natural instincts could only prove to be a good thing.

Hips finding their own rhythm, Dean’s hands gripped tightly in the Omega’s hair as he let his head fall back, eyes closing in the pure sensation of what he was experiencing. Knot growing thicker, making it more difficult to cram himself into the Omega’s mouth, Dean had enough presence of mind to know he didn’t want to knot the Omega’s mouth, he wanted to knot his hole; eager to fill him up and craving to breed him.

Reluctantly pulling out of the warmth that was the dog’s mouth, Dean took a moment to bask in the delight that was his dominance. In his lust filled eyes, Dean looked down to see that of an adoring and willing Omega, waiting patiently for his throbbing cock. Dean was happy to oblige him. In his stupor, Dean shoved the Omega forward onto his belly and straddled his prone body. Yanking his arms out from under him to be pulled tightly behind his back, Dean, in his rut addled state, interpreted the high-pitched whine as one of pleasure not pain. Holding small hands in his grip, Dean began to sniff the back of the Omega’s neck and behind his ears. The scent was stirring him up into a frenzy and only served to encourage him towards what he so desperately wanted. Poking and prodding at the dry hole, Dean angled himself awkwardly to valiantly lick a stripe up between the Omega’s exposed cheeks, before finally spitting onto his prize, smirking at the shudder it elicited from the Omega below him.

Positioning himself, Dean wrapped his right arm under the Omega’s throat, pulling upwards, causing the small body to crane uncomfortably. This roused another bout of whines and wriggles, something Dean delighted in. The mixture of an enthused Omega and fighting prey switched on intense primal instincts that overwhelmed Dean’s senses. Alpha in full control, Dean felt himself slide into the beautiful, tight heat that was his Omega before he allowed his mind to be consumed by pheromones and lust.

For five days, Dean had his way with Castiel. For five days Dean had been engulfed in a fiery pit of primal urges before finally, after one last knot, did he start to come down from his high.

The Barn stunk something fierce. The mingling of Dean’s intense Alpha pheromones combined with Castiel’s fear and submission wafted heavily in thick fumes.

The fumes acted as a blanket for Dean, encasing him in the sweet smell of release and hunger, leaving him content in sleep. Castiel on the other hand, hadn’t slept at all. The surrounding fumes only serving to encase him in his own wall of terror. His eyes were currently fixed on the sleeping form of the Alpha to the side of him. The Alpha’s head was turned away from him but he was certain he was asleep. The gentle rise and fall of his bare chest the only indicator of his unconsciousness. 

Frozen in fear and locked in place, Castiel sat for what felt like hours. Having no idea of what the time was, Castiel grew anxious, mind whirring on how to survive the situation. Desperate for water, Castiel was dismayed to see the bowl had been knocked over in the attack. Shrinking in on himself, Castiel tried to control his breathing, unsure if he was breathing too loudly, hoping if it was loud, it wouldn’t wake the Alpha next to him. Memories of the attack faded in and out, and he was grateful he had lost consciousness for bouts of it. Each time Castiel had woken up, he had prayed the Alpha had gone, but each time he had opened his eyes to red glowing ones and an overwhelming stench of Alpha in rut. On the cusp of each dawning consciousness throughout the ordeal, Castiel had quite enjoyed the smell, allowing it to lull him into a false sense of security. It was the same pleasant smell from his dreams that lured him towards the waking terror of the scary Alpha that kept him chained here.

Castiel was aware that both the Pen gate and the Barn door were open and unlocked. Though the need for chains was unnecessary, since his own fear had anchored him to the ground. Movement beside him had Castiel stilling, holding his breath. A false alarm, the body lying next to him simply turned over. With the Alpha’s back facing him, Castiel felt a surge of confidence through him. Before he’d been on edge, believing at any moment the glowing red eyes would open and appear, back to hurt him again, but with them out of sight, they couldn’t hurt him. Castiel began to edge towards the door, crawling at a snails-pace, pausing and flinching at any vibration through the ground beneath his hands, not knowing if he’d created the sound or not. Both were things that terrified him. Reaching the Barn door, Castiel hesitated before feeling his neck. That electric collar wasn’t around his neck, he should be able to leave. The ghost of a shock caused him to waver in his actions, considering going back. For Castiel he was between a rock and a hard place. Does he go back to the terrifying Alpha or does he venture out into the unknown? Back to pain and fear or experience pain and fear risking the unknown? Since pain was a certainty if he went back, and pain was only a strong possibility if he went forward, Castiel took that option. Crawling forward, Castiel kept low as he slowly made his way across the grass. The soft grass a heavenly contrast to the hard, scratchy floor of the Barn. After making it twenty yards away from the door, Castiel needed to rest. His head beating a steady beat of fatigue. Wanting to collapse there and then, Castiel was ready to give up all hope, until looking up he saw what he made out to be a water trough. Yes! If he could make it to that, he could regain some energy. Beginning the painfully slow and tiresome journey to the trough, Castiel suddenly panicked. What if the trough were empty? What would he do?

After taking twenty minutes to reach the trough, Castiel was near wiped out, all energy depleted. Reaching up to grip the side seemed too much of a great feat, but Castiel powered through. Pulling himself up to stand, Castiel looked in to almost fall from sheer relief. Water! And lots of it. Weary from dehydration and exhausted from fear and pain, Castiel greedily lapped up the water from the trough, then using his hands to scoop the water over his face and neck, providing comfort to being somewhat clean. In the small amount of time he was standing, Castiel’s limbs became heavy and useless. Having no choice but to sit down and rest against the trough, Castiel considered his next move. He could try and leave the property, but that other bigger Alpha may still be prowling around, and Castiel was not in want of another shocking. While considering his options, the weight of his drowsiness pushed down against him. Castiel’s eyelids began to droop, becoming heavy as the exhaustion settled deeply in his body. Struggling to keep his eyes open, Castiel couldn’t fight the pull of much needed rest. Drained from sheer lethargy, Castiel’s eyes dropped closed, his head tilting to the side which then pulled his body to the right, causing him to slump down against the ground.

Dean awoke relaxed and content, a lazy smile spreading across his face. Leaning up, elbows taking his weight, he struggled to remember what exactly had happened, just knowing that he was well sated and happy. As the sheen of sweat cooled on his body, images flashed of Castiel underneath him.. enjoying it? In Dean’s mind, Castiel had loved it, the pair of them in unison as Alpha and Omega, Master and Pet.

Any fantasying of the Omega diminished when the smell of piss and shit assaulted his senses. The corner of the pen had seemingly been used as a makeshift toilet. Something Dean hadn’t even noticed before. The smell of Omega had always dominated his senses, clouding the offensive corner. Dean felt disgusted, though reasoned the Omega obviously hadn’t had a choice, quickly realising that he hadn’t even considered the Omega’s basic needs. Sure he’d been feeding and watering him, but he had missed something a little more obvious. Eyes watering, it soon dawned on Dean why he could smell the corner, the usual scent of Omega had vanished. Looking around the space, he couldn’t see Castiel. Jerking upright fully, Dean called out to him, thinking perhaps he’d moved closer to his water bowl. To his disappointment, both bowls were empty.

Eyes scanning the room, Dean’s stomach dropped as he saw the Barn doors open. Swaying slightly at the speed he got to his feet, Dean hastily made his way to the entrance, resigning to the fact his Omega may have already escaped. Walking outside with trepidation on sore, shaky legs, Dean, much to his relief, didn’t have to look very far to find Castiel. There the small Omega was, lying slumped against the water trough, out cold.

“What the fuck?”

Dean hurried over, crouching to tentatively gather him up in his arms, hand ghosting over delicate features to check for any signs of life. A small twitch to the cheek was enough for Dean to pick him up in relief and bring him back in the Barn, securing him back into the Pen.

Dean was careful to settle him down against the ground, not wanting to cause him to stir. Looking Castiel over, Dean winced slightly at the dark, angry bruising around the Omega’s neck, wrists and hips. Mapping out the dark blooms, Dean realised just how filthy Castiel was. Feeling a little guilty for using Castiel the way he did, Dean reasoned with himself that he wasn’t in full control of himself. He was an Alpha, and Alpha’s had needs. Besides, at least Castiel had enjoyed their time together. 

Securing the Pen, Dean went about clearing the small pile of shit, then hosing down the flooring which had collected pools of piss. As the flooring dried, Dean scattered some more straw around the surrounding area, hoping to give the Pen some more comfort. Eventually deciding that a bucket would serve as a more suitable toilet, Dean, seeing Castiel was still asleep, figured popping outside to retrieve a pale wouldn’t be too much of an ask. Returning, Dean placed the bucket down with a clatter, using his foot to shuffle it along to its designated spot when he heard a small moan. Head turning towards the sound, he saw Castiel’s face scrunching up. Moving to hover above him, Dean lent down to very gently start stroking the Omega’s face with intentions of quelling any upsetting dreams.

Castiel stirred at the contact, eyes flicking open and finding Deans. A pause of confusion fizzled away to immediate panic. Arms flailing outwards, Castiel’s hands went up to feel his neck, finding it collar free. Dean had backed up slightly, staring back with a frown, confused by Castiel’s outburst. Castiel, seeing Dean’s expression, instantly put his hands out in front of him, palms facing inwards, then turning them so his palms were facing towards Dean. Repeating the motion clumsily, hands shaking with his head lowered, unable to hold eye contact, Castiel shrunk in on himself as Dean reached out to still his fumbling hands. As Dean took Castiel’s hands into his own, Castiel immediately recoiled, hissing, out of his mind in fear of the Alpha in front of him. Backing up against the wall, Castiel started to lash out in desperation for the Alpha to leave him alone.

Dean was completely gobsmacked at the sudden onslaught of abuse directed at him. Just before the Omega had been calm, had enjoyed his company, what had happened? Was this some hormonal reaction? Was Castiel going into heat? Dean idly wondered if the cause of the outburst was anything to do with his rut?

Bewildered and a little bit unnerved, Dean decided the best thing to do would be leave Castiel to settle down, and allow him to come down from this Omega frenzy. The more Dean considered it, the more he felt that the reaction was hormonal. Omega’s were needy, and the intensity of his rut must have triggered Castiel’s need to be knotted. 

Looking down at Castiel, who was still snarling and hissing in Dean’s general direction, Dean reasoned it would be smart to lock the collar around the Omega’s neck, perhaps even for his own protection. Dean was worried if Castiel didn’t relax he may hurt himself. Retrieving the collar from a hook on the wall; probably Benny’s doing, Dean returned, hoping to seamlessly lock it into place. What he wasn’t expecting was for Castiel to snap his teeth at him, narrowly missing his hand. Not in the mood for this immature behaviour, Dean lightly scolded his Pet.

“No, that’s bad, you don’t bite!”

With no response from Castiel, just wide, crazed eyes avoiding his own, Dean continued “Look, I know your hormones are frazzled right now and you want my knot, but my rut is over. You did a great job in helping me out, but it’s time for you to calm yourself down.” 

Going to once again try and place the collar around Castiel’s neck, Dean was once again met with animosity. Castiel’s hands swatted at Dean, scratching him whenever he got close enough. Sighing, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hands, restraining them tightly. Looking around for the discarded mittens but coming up short, Dean wondered how to handle the situation.

With Castiel overexcited and his limbs flailing about, Dean gave up trying to restrain him. Believing eventually the Omega would wear himself out. Stepping out of the pen and locking the gate, Dean watched as Castiel’s frantic movements settled to a simmer once Dean was out of his proximity. Curious, logically Dean knew it was definitely his scent that was triggering Castiel. Perhaps the smell of his rut was still sticking to him. Speaking of, about now would be an excellent time for a shower. Having been so distracted with dealing with his impish Omega, Dean had neglected his own needs post-rut.

Once inside, Dean could barely muster enough energy to climb the stairs, instead hovering in the kitchen deciding whether or not to flop onto the sofa; wishing he could sleep away the smell. But since sniffing under his arms resulted in him gagging, Dean opted in showering; the more sensible decision. Shuffling past the Everest that was his staircase, and into the downstairs bathroom, Dean got the water running.

Dean rarely washed in the downstairs bathroom, and though his usual gels and shampoo were vacant, the hot spray of water was really the only thing he needed. Stepping into the porcelain tub, Dean wavered, allowing his head to fall to the side and gently rest against the tiled wall. Blindly reaching out to fiddle with the shower knobs, finally water erupted. Sightless to his actions, Dean found out he’d turned the knob the wrong way only until the sting of cold water shocked him out of his exhaustion enough to quickly jump back, cursing as he reached around the offending spray to turn the knob to its intended destination of scorching. Testing the water by tapping it with his hand, Dean felt comfortable enough to slide into the spray, sighing with content as the warmth dizzied him into a blissful spell. The heat making him light-headed, Dean decided on sitting down, scooting as close to the end as possible; cramming his 6ft 1 frame to fit squarely under the steaming cascade of water. Grateful to feel the lasting sweat and stink from the past few days rinsing away to leave behind an expanse of clean skin.

Deciding to remain seated, finding that he actually enjoyed sitting in the shower, Dean picked up the lone shampoo bottle that was laid on its side, neglected. Since his only regular visitor was Benny, and since he always showered in Dean’s ensuite, Dean could only think of one other owner. Staring at the bottle of shampoo had started to unravel abandoned thoughts of his brother, Sam. Thoughts he reluctantly untangled had dusted away the freshest and most fragile memory of his brother, the night Sam had left him. 

_Sam had practically lived at the Ranch with Dean when his brother first bought the place. Fresh from graduating, Sam had not hidden his excitement in the change of scenery. But it didn’t take long for friction to ensue, as the brother’s polar personalities meant the two months spent together had provided enough time for spats and quarrels to blow up into full blown hatred. Dean’s initial laziness and drinking habits eventually caused a rift between the two. Sam was eager to get the Ranch up and running, hungry for a project to fill his Gap Year sandwiched between graduating from Stanford Law and starting at a prestigious Environmental Law firm. Eager to have his own fill of nature and the environment, giving him a well-rounded approach to his impending career. However the lack of motivation on Dean’s part and him haemorrhaging any money he earned on liquor, meant Sam was up against a brick wall of an angry alcoholic who didn’t like to be ordered around, and who preferred to spend his days lounging around drunk. Sam would blow up frequently on the fact that the reason Dean had bought the Ranch in the first place was to sober up, get clean and turn his life around. Subsequently, after a violent blow out, Sam had had enough, realising no one could change Dean, not even Dean._

____

_The final days leading up to Sam’s unplanned departure had been a pressure cooker filled to the brim of guilt, insults and anger, with Dean fuelling the fire. Unfortunately it was Sam that had lit the match, not out of spite or malice, but out of desperation._

_____ _

_At any given opportunity Dean had complained about Sam’s presence in the house. Wishing he could drink without his overbearing younger brother breathing down his neck. Any of Sam’s efforts to improve the Ranch and improve Dean was met with hostility. Sam knew Dean was immature, but for a man well into his thirties, it was getting quite tedious. Like dealing with an overgrown child, refusing to give up the bottle. Of course, Sam had imagined leaving from the first week he arrived, but his loyalty to his brother kept him planted. It was this same loyalty which resulted in the brothers’ downfall. The second month of Sam’s stay coincided with an anniversary of Dean’s stupidity. Drink driving and two counts of assault. The event had resulted in a night in jail and an unenthusiastic bail out from his distant parents._

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_In honour of helping his brother getting clean, Sam had taken the liberty to clear the entire place of alcohol, even going as far to sneak past his sleeping brother and scope out Dean’s hidden stash of miniatures he’d hidden in his ensuite cabinet. Once all bottles were collected, Sam had drained each and every one down the kitchen sink, every last drop of alcohol vanishing down the plug._

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_Immediately after, Sam had felt a sense of dread. Maybe forcing Dean to quit cold turkey was a bad idea, a terrible idea in fact. Floating around the house, Sam was tense and on edge. Having absolutely no idea how Dean would react to his decision was having its effect. It was well into the afternoon and Dean was still dead to the world, and after careful thought and consideration, Sam concluded that rousing Dean prematurely; just to put an end to the building, unbearable tension, was idiotic, as he brother was an angry sleeper, almost bear like. And bearing the news, to an already angry Dean, of the dreaded Liquor-gate was not a side of his brother he wanted to see._

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_Hours later, hours of pacing around anxiously, Sam knew when his brother had woken. The thud against the floor boards upstairs was one signal, but the subsequent bellow of his name moments later was another, yet more obvious one. Hopping from one foot to the other, an action that was spurred on by his nervous energy, Sam had found himself to be quite afraid. He and Dean butted heads frequently during spats, sure, but he seldom was on the other end of his brother’s pure wrath, which would melt away any opponent just from intimidation alone. Sam had seen Raiders, and had always imagined Dean’s verbal opponents meeting the same fateful end of those in the film._

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_Wincing at the sound of Dean thundering down the stairs, Sam had no time to react before his brother had him cornered and trapped in the kitchen, pinned against the wall by his steely gaze._

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_“You went through my room.”_

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_Sam stammered slightly as his brain tried to give him an articulate reply, desperate to retrieve the final draft of his speech he’d memorised by heart earlier, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a stammering of “Wh-what?”_

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_“Don’t play games, I know what you took.”_

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_Sam’s silence was enough for Dean to spring into action, frantically moving about the kitchen, opening cupboard doors in his haste to find what he much so needed. Empty cupboard after empty cupboard, Dean continued to fall short, and as his desperation grew, so did his anger. Dean hoarded his alcohol like a great dragon sitting upon a fortune. The vast amount of alcohol in his supply meant Dean never went without a drink, and provided him with the comfort of knowing that. And having his plunder stolen from him, right out from under his nose, not only served to humiliate him but feed his wrath._

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_Dean had made plenty of stupid decisions in his life, but that didn’t been he was stupid. Immediately knowing what his brother had done, Dean rounded on Sam in a fit of rage. Fists flying with force, uncaring of who the recipient of his powerful anger was._

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_Sam had manged to get a few punches in himself but his damage barely dented Dean’s exterior. He was the one being pummelled and for a frightening moment, he thought his brother wasn’t going to stop. Dean was going to beat him to death._

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_”Dean, please, stop.” Sam had all but managed to croak out._

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_Sam believed the only thing that saved him was his brother’s sober state. Drunk Dean would have killed him, he was certain.  
Once Dean realised the wetness on his hands were his brother’s blood, he pushed him away. Heaving out long breaths, he immediately grabbed his keys, wallet and jacket and barged out the front door like a man with purpose. Not sparing a glance to his injured brother. Sam believed without doubt that Dean was going to a liquor store or a bar, intending to feed his demons with a healthy dose of Whiskey. _

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_Sitting in the newly established silence of the house, Sam knew he couldn’t stay. He could no longer pretend that the stranger masquerading around as his brother was someone he could keep in his life._

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_The dust hadn’t even had a chance to settle from the Impala’s prompt getaway before Sam was packing up his belongings. A hastily written goodbye note left crumpled in his pocket as he walked out, eyes watering. Sam left and he didn’t look back. The only thing he saw in the rear-view mirror while driving away in his rented Honda was his own two blackened eyes staring back at him._

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_Dean had left to go for a drive to centre his thoughts and to calm down. He had always struggled controlling his anger and knew he couldn’t do it around Sam with the fresh knowledge of his brother draining his supply of Whiskey and Beer. After driving for an hour, Dean eventually found himself at a viewing point, overlooking a beautiful mountainous valley. That was where he sat deep in thought, aligning himself alongside his brother’s intentions. God he was so mad! He was furious! “Who the fuck does Sam think he is, going and pulling a stunt like that. Why would Sam pull a stunt like that?” That question triggered an onslaught of awareness. And after careful contemplation, Dean’s anger had faded to something of understanding. Sam had been looking out for him, had wanted to help him._

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_Deciding not to let the anger settle and cause a rift between them, Dean returned back to the house at sunset, with his tail between his legs. Preparing to hash it out with Sam, he felt ready to finally open up, so was disappointed to find the house empty. Avoiding the scene of the crime, Dean started to walk the perimeter of the property, basking in the glorious view of the sunset on the horizon. Coming across a neglected bench erected in memorial, Dean had found his new spot of quiet contemplation, enjoying the silent scenery, nature soothing his explosive anger._

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_The next morning had rolled over with no sign of Sam and it hadn’t been until dinnertime that Dean had had the sense to check Sam’s room. Bag and belongings gone, Dean’s heart had sagged, guilt eating at him ferociously._

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_During the first week of Sam’s disappearance, Dean had sat patiently in the lounge, ears pricking at the slightest sounds. After a week had passed, Dean resigned himself to the knowledge that Sam was not coming back. Sam was not coming back because of him._

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_Bottling up the impending emotional storm and cowardly in facing the consequences of his actions, Dean didn’t hesitate to slip into his Impala and drive. Creeping past his usual watering hole, he suddenly found it in great distaste to even be considering walking inside; instead opting to drive further afield to find solace in a hot, tasty meal. Thirty minutes out of town, Dean came across a hidden but pleasant looking joint, Guidry's Cajun Café, a place that promised home cooked food and pleasant company; two things that Dean was desperately seeking. While sitting at the counter and picking at his food, the smooth talking owner had sensed the depression in Dean, even managing to loosen him up in a way that had Dean spilling his thoughts and feelings. Blue eyes compelling him to reveal everything, from his recurring drinking problem to the fresh confrontation with his brother. Talking for near two hours, Dean left feeling full and uplifted, promising to be back on not only the account of the delicious apple pie on offer, but also in the budding friendship he’d found in the owner, Benny Lafitte._

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Dean was ashamed of the memory, cringing away from his own thoughts. He remembers that day so clearly. Sam leaving without so much of a note or a word of when he’d be back, if he would ever come back. The pain and heartbreak he’d experienced that day was paramount, which was why Dean knew it was no coincidence that he met Benny that day. The man had been his emotional crutch from the very beginning, which was something he will be forever indebted to.

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Dean had let the water run cold. Distant, his mind had swallowed up any intention of moving. His mind replaying the unlocked memory of Sam ignited anger in a collection of kindling; it wasn’t enough to trigger a roaring fire but enough to start a small flickering glow.

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Being as clean as he possibly can be and having drained all of his hot water, Dean stepped out into the frigid coolness of his bathroom, immediately wrapping himself up in a towel. Shivering, Dean padded out then groaned at his decision to shower downstairs, the distance up to his bedroom obviously a great plight. Scouting out his bedroom for a change of clothes, Dean fingered through the drawer for the piles of t-shirts when he questioned himself whether or not Castiel would need some clothes. Were dogs okay in their own skin? Castiel had been bought wearing underwear and nothing more. Would he want clothes or maybe Dean should just replace his underwear with a fresh pair. Realising none of his would suffice due to size; Dean figured he could just wash the one pair he had. Grabbing a cotton t-shirt and some joggers for himself, Dean retrieved another t-shirt for Castiel; reasoning he could wear it just until his pants were washed and given back to him.

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Making his way downstairs, Dean realised just how hungry he was. Making his way to the coffee pot, Dean waited patiently for his coffee to brew, all the while looking out the kitchen window at the Barn. After making himself lunch he’d go and recover the two bowls from the Pen and fill them up with kibble and water.

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Coffee ready, Dean poured the dark liquid into this favourite mug, a Stanford mug, the only item Sam had left behind. After two sips, Dean placed the coveted mug down to get going on his lunch. Opening the fridge, the glow of the light emphasized his frowning features. Sniffing the packet ham, Dean withdrew his nose from it. Swearing, Dean realised most of his food had perished during his rut. How long had it been, three, four days? Opened bread had moulded, ham and bacon off the charts and more annoyingly, what was left in the milk cartoon would most certainly have to be replaced. Remembering he had recently stocked his cupboards with tins of soup, Dean rendered himself to having a light lunch in the form of a small bowl of soup sans bread and butter.

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Gas ticking, flame triggered, the stove was alive. Pot placed onto the hob, Dean poured the meagre contents of his lunch into the waiting pan. Setting it to a low heat, Dean used the time to make his way back down to the Barn, while his lunch cooked, he could sort out his Pet’s. Travelling to the porch door, Dean turned out his heal to grab his spare t-shirt, intending to also take and wash Castiel’s pants. Making the short journey, Dean unlocked the Barn doors and stepped inside. T-shirt in hand, Dean was eager to see his Pet, hoping that in the time he’d left him, Castiel would have calmed down from his hormonally charged Omega frenzy.

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Castiel was lying on his side, back facing Dean. Standing still for a moment, Dean wanted to see if his scent triggered Castiel’s frantic behaviour. With no response from the Omega, Dean felt it was safe to move into the Pen without being ambushed by a needy Omega.

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Scooping up both bowls, Dean decided to not disturb his sleeping Omega, letting him rest; considering this was just a flying visit, no need to rile him up. On one lasting thought, Dean crouched down and carefully lifted Castiel’s head, placing his spare t-shirt down to act like a pillow.

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Back in the kitchen, Dean stirred his soup, the aroma of tomato wafting up and making him hungry. Moving first to fill the water bowl, Dean went to prepare the food bowl, pouring the bag of Omega-feed, the following clatter of kibble against the bowl sounded. Filling the bowl to the brim, Dean looked at it curiously. He’d always wondered what Omega-feed had tasted like. With no one around to tell him otherwise, he picked one piece up and placed it into his mouth. Finding one piece wasn’t enough to get a real taste; he scooped up a handful and poured them into his open mouth. The unexpected crunch covered up the initial taste. It was dry and rather bland, though did have quite an unpleasant after taste. How Omega’s enjoyed eating this, Dean would never know. Finding his neglected coffee; now cooled, Dean used it to wash down any remaining bits, hoping the coffee would eradicate the unkind taste. 

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Stirring his soup once more, Dean grabbed both bowls and made his way back outside. Approaching the Barn again, Dean realised he’d left the door open and unlocked, though his worries evaporated at the sight of the still sleeping Omega. Entering the pen and placing the bowls down in the assigned spaces, Dean checked the bucket, noting it to be empty, before approaching Castiel. Using the lack of response wisely, Dean reaches down and carefully wrapped the metal collar around his throat before snapping it into the place. The click was loud, though wasn’t loud enough to wake Castiel from his slumber.

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Bending down, Dean gently rolled Castiel over onto his back, staring down at him. As he begun to check him over, Dean was happy that there were no serious injuries, just bruising and redness; which was a given. Moving to examine his neck, Dean was glad to see there was no bite; with how wildly out of control he was, he was relieved that his Alpha hadn’t had the urge to bite. Though bites only secured a mating when both Alpha and Omega were joined in Heat and Rut, a bite would still cause complications. A bite; even outside of Rut and Heat, would signify an equality between Alpha and Omega, joining partners together. It was not only a symbol but a chemical bonding. Typically mating bites were seen between Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta and Beta/Beta couples. Since Omega’s were the lesser gender of society, a bitten Omega was something of a dishonour, and whichever Alpha or Beta had bitten them was subjected to social humiliation. 

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This was typically why Omega pets permanently wore collars, to stop the owner from biting them when lost in the heat of sex. The lack of his own bite activated new thoughts on the bite Dean had noticed on Castiel’s neck the day he had washed him. It was small, but not an Omega bite. Omega’s could break the skin but lacked the hormones needed to not only create a bond but also for causing the scar. Dean was curious about who had bitten him and why. Castiel obviously wasn’t mated or chemically bonded to anyone. Once bonded, an Omega could become sick without the scent of its mate. Castiel was neither sick nor dying, so both being mated and bonded were out of the question. This train of thought had Dean pondering different, logical situations to explain the bite. Coming up with none, he chose to leave it. Finger tracing the bite once more with his finger, Dean was shocked out of his calm curiosity when Castiel suddenly awoke, grabbing the offending hand touching him to bite down, hard. Gasping in pain, Dean tried to pry his hand away but Castiel held on, growling.

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“Off! Let go!”

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Castiel wasn’t relieving the pressure so Dean resulted in hitting the side of his head repeatedly to get him to release his throbbing hand. As Castiel opened his mouth as a result of the pain of being hit, Dean was able to snap his hand back. Clasping it against his chest, he was shaken to see Castiel had drawn blood.

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Dean’s initial shock quickly turned to a simmering anger. The kindling of anger catching on, igniting more pieces within him to create a steady fire. Hand throbbing, Dean waited in silent anger, watching as Castiel continued to react to him. He’d planted himself against the far end of the Pen, hissing and baring his teeth, eyes wide in fear and avoiding Dean’s own. Braving a step towards the unruly Omega, Castiel swiped out a hand, catching Dean’s leg, though his joggers took the brunt of the attack. Patience rapidly dwindling and indifference taking its place, Dean tried to be rational, but the change in his Pet’s demeanour was making that very, very hard.

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“Stop that.” Dean aired his command clearly, but the response from Castiel was continued hissing. “Heel” Dean tried a new command, again with no response. “Heel! Heel! Stop that.” Any attempt of regaining control of the situation had dissipated, it was clear to Dean that vocal commands weren’t going to work when the Omega was misbehaving like this.

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Lurching forward, Dean managed to grab Castiel’s swinging arms and hold them in his vice like grip. “That’s enough!” Skin on skin contact seemed to trigger a new wave of disobedience, as Castiel started to desperately pull himself away from Dean. “Stop resisting, stop it!” Backhanding the Omega proved nothing, as Castiel continued on in his agitation, and now with his hands secured, he’d gone back to baring his teeth and snapping his mouth in Dean’s direction. Having had enough, Dean, in his anger thought that knocking the Omega out with a swift, hard blow to the head would do the trick, but it was the glint of metal that caught his attention, turning his mind away from the idea. Straw messily covered the discarded hand cuffs that Dean had lost within the Pen. Bingo. Standing up and pulling Castiel with him to grab the cuffs, once in his possession Dean lowered Castiel to the floor, then knelt across his throat. Knee and foot on the floor either side of his head, effective in stopping Castiel from biting him. With the immediate threat of sharp teeth resolved, Dean was able to snap the clutches of the cuffs around Castiel’s wrists efficiently. Standing back, breathing heavily, Dean stared down in contempt. “Stupid dog! What the fuck was that about? I bring you food and you attack me?”

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With Castiel now crying, Dean felt it time to leave. With the Omega chained in place and cuffed, Dean still felt the need to lock the Pen, though not bothering with the Barn doors.

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Mind swimming with anger, Dean was distraught. The bloody dog had bitten him again, and this time he’d drawn blood. Bastard. Dean was certain he was doing something wrong. Going over the past twenty four hours in his head, had he even done anything wrong? He’d fed the Omega, watered him, yeah he’d left him alone at his clingiest but that didn’t explain the sudden outburst of hostility. Mind ticking over quickly, Dean walked into his kitchen to smoke and the smell of burnt metal. “Shit” Running over to the stove, he quickly turned it off before opening the windows, fanning the smokes with a tea-towel. Inspecting the damage, the remains of his soup had burned, melting and sticking against the melted pan. Perturbed, Dean threw the pan into the sink with a crash.

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Dean felt strange, like he wasn’t himself. He was detached from his body, mind in limbo. Going over logical explanations of his Pet’s behaviour, Dean was at a loss. What possibly could have triggered it? He had done nothing wrong today, absolutely nothing. Not in the mood to cook, Dean sought out the packets of peanuts that were in abundance in his cupboard. After munching through a couple bags, his makeshift lunch, Dean’s resolve broke and he opened the fridge to swipe a beer from it. Benny tended to leave six-packs in there for whenever he was around, made it easier for him.

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Sitting at his kitchen counter, wallowing in the events of the day, in the events of the past week, in memories of his out of control drinking, in memories of Sam. One beer turned into two, then three, until Dean was reaching in to grab the sixth and final bottle.

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Being hungry and angry for Dean was a lethal combination, and blended with the lingering hormonal imbalance of his rut, Dean began to feel agitated. The influence of the beers finally taking effect, it settled to stir the residue of his memory of Sam leaving, reminding him of his failures. Dean’s overflowing anger crashed through the dam of his self-control, flooding through his brain and sweeping away any rational or sympathetic thoughts.

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Rage overwhelming his rationality, Dean finished the last swig of his beer bottle to stand and stride outside with purpose. The beer soaking through his brain actually making him see sense, Dean knew he was about to do the right thing. Everything in his life had been wildly out of control, but it had always been his faults, his mistakes. That was up until now, today that changes, today he will be the one in control.

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	9. Sobering Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the delay in posting, some issues with my laptop slowed everything down, then the icing on the cake was the entire chapter getting deleted, so I had to re-write the entire thing!

Dean stalked towards Castiel as the flames of his anger licked through him. Crashing through the Barn doors, he immediately saw Castiel who was violently shaking as he cowered behind his hands, the only defense he had in the Pen.

“Come here.”

Nothing.

“Heel! Heel!”

Castiel whimpered, eyes darting around before landing back on Dean. Making a face, Castiel brought his cuffed hands up in front of his face, trying out different hand gestures but finding the cuffs debilitating, before using his right finger to draw a line from his ear to his mouth.

“You got an itch or something? What is that?”

Castiel repeated the action over and over, hoping that the Alpha would understand.

“What are you doing? Stop that! I said come here!” Irritation crackling, Dean stomped his foot, pointing at the Omega then pointing at his feet. “Heel!”

Castiel could make out what the Alpha wanted from the action alone. Warily, he rose on shaky legs, and made his way towards the Alpha. Finding Castiel to be too slow, Dean closed in on his dog and roughly grabbed him by his scruff to throw him to the ground. Castiel wailed as Dean started to round a series of powerful kicks, heavy shoes pounding his back, ribs and stomach. Curling in on himself, Castiel cried out.

“Jesus you’re so disobedient you little runt!” Kick. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Kick. “Why? Huh? Why?” Kick.

Molten anger rolled through Dean, moulding his behaviour to almost animalistic as he beat Castiel. Uncaring as his little Pet sobbed and writhed around on the floor beneath him. With each hit, anger was drained from his body, and with each hit, Dean was forgetting why he was so angry in the first place. The energy releasing straight from his own fists and transferring into Castiel in the form of bruising and broken skin. Castiel’s hands rising up, clinking the cuffs as he moved, to wiggle his fingers about in that strange way he did, created a fresh swell of anger to crash through Dean. Dean didn’t understand the gestures, and in his ignorance he fed in his own reasoning, and in that reasoning was offence. To Dean, Castiel was being rude, mocking him. Dean was completely wrong, and somewhat delusional. His anger had manifested in such a way to believe such falsities. Another slight gesture of the Omega’s left hand had Dean stamping down on it, enjoying the pained scream that followed as he watched the injured hand position itself into that of a dead spider; curled up and useless. Delighted to see the Omega had stopped those silly gestures, instead opting to cradle his hand against his chest, right hand cupped underneath to support. Breathless, nostrils flaring, his own hollow anger was suffocating him. Just being around the Omega riled him up to great lengths of antagonism. In those blue eyes Dean saw a reflection of himself, and he didn’t like what he saw. With one final kick, Dean turned swiftly on his heel and marched out, not before locking the Pen gate behind him.

Stepping out into the fresh air, Dean felt numb, he felt detached and disconnected. His mind was slipping, and along with his mind went his resolve. He needed a drink. Making haste back to the house, Dean grabbed his wallet and keys, made his way to the entry way, checked himself in the mirror, promptly put down his wallet and keys, then went to the bathroom to splash water over his face. Hunched over the sink, Dean initially refused to make eye contact with his reflection, but the dark circles and roughened skin had drawn him back. He looked terrible and a part of him didn’t recognise himself. Under his eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and the whites of his eyes reddened. Methodically, Dean used the hand towel available to pat dry his dampened skin. Hands already beginning to shake at the thought of Castiel in the Barn, Dean hung the towel in its respective place to make his second attempt at leaving. He looked like shit, and he felt like shit; two things that would undoubtedly go unnoticed at the kind of places he was planning on going.

Terror coursed through Castiel, his body numb and mouth dry. Sitting in silence, anxiety eclipsed his thoughts as he eyed the door warily. There was no way of knowing when the Alpha would return, no way to prepare for the onslaught of pain brought on by strong, cruel hands. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong; he didn’t know what to do to make the Alpha understand. What had riled the man up? Something had happened for the Alpha to turn on him like that. Though, given his track record of beatings, Castiel knew that a sudden surge of violence would always be on the cards. Sighing heavily disturbed his aching ribs. When he moved to accommodate them it agitated his left hand, which had him wincing at the sharp pulses of pain. Looking down at his oddly positioned fingers, Castiel started to panic, though the panic was far away, on some other level of his consciousness. He was very aware of his situation, and very aware that the hand he was looking at was his, but for some reason he just couldn’t make the connection. That was his hand, his mangled hand, and yet he didn’t really recognise it. He felt vaguely aware yet vaguely indifferent. Though in his indifference, the bubble was pierced by his flaring distress and the anxiety of the Alpha walking back through the door at any given moment. Castiel wanted to look away from the door, but a continuous trickle of fear dripping down his spine kept him awake. Exhaustion was tugging at him, but the dread that engulfed him was too much, radiating in waves.

Settling back against the wall, eyes still staring ahead at the door, Castiel resented the heavy weight of the collar bearing down on his neck and shoulders. The ache was dull but deep, and if he could wish for one thing it would be for its removal. A simple wish, something that didn’t have consequence; something that didn’t require too much thought. For wishing required a semblance of hope, and allowing his mind to hope caused complications, hope only caused further pain. Because if he wished to be far away from this place, Castiel would have to think about where he would go and what he would be doing. If he wasn’t here bearing the brunt of this aggressive Alpha, he would be chained up somewhere else, bearing the brunt of another Alpha. As an Omega, he had no free will, no rights of his own. If he wasn’t locked up here he would no doubt be somewhere just as bad, or worse.

Bitterly, Castiel thought that these living conditions were an improvement to living at the Fighting Facility. Lip trembling, Castiel refused to think about the years he spent there. The abuse, the constant abuse, the dogs, the handlers, it was all too much to think about. Jaw clenched, Castiel raised his metal clad wrists to wipe furiously at his damp, swollen eyes that were starting to redden by his tears; his left hand hanging uselessly in the steel grip.

Exhaustion finally pulling at the lose thread of his frayed nerves, Castiel allowed himself to slump down to his right side, head resting against the damp straw and left hand laying curled and limp beside him. Feeling hollow, his empty, listless eyes continued to stare in the door’s direction as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Dean’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel of his Impala, as he made the trip into town. Eyes flicking quickly in saccadic pursuit at the potential bars and eateries as they went by. Towards the lower end of town, in a neighbourhood for the disreputable and sinister, the up-town bars and trendy cafes turned into seedy bars and gentlemen’s clubs. An old haunt had him fixated, so Dean, without hesitating, pulled into one of the empty spaces available in the front. The place was well-worn and of poor upkeep, but held firm to a more homely appeal; a place for the more unfavourable residents to drink and socialise in the comfort of their own lives. To the untrained eye the bar was a detriment to the community, a swill-slinging hole of debauchery with a siren call for undesirables. But to the inhabitants, the so called undesirables, it was a haven. An unglamorous bar promising a simple selection of cheap drinks, alongside the best burgers in the state, to the regular clientele it was the obvious choice of where to take their business.

Dean moved in between the rabble to take centre position at the bar. The blonde on the other side was quick to respond to his presence by placing a menu down in front of him, before she moved away. Taken aback by the snub, Dean narrowed his eyes before he whistled out to her. Blonde hair swishing back, blue eyes widened in recognition as the waitress regarded Dean.

“Dean Winchester? Man I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you step in here again! Had a few folks tell me you’d moved?”

Dean fingered the edges of the bar as he grinned back cheekily, “No, I’m still around, just haven’t made the trip to the Roadhouse a frequent one.”

“Such a damn shame you haven’t!” The blonde eyed him, “I was convinced you’d left without a goodbye, got so upset to think you may never come back. Last I heard you had gone back to California with your brother, Sam still around as well then?”

Dean’s face lost the poised charm and smile he had been working on and suddenly the need to drink was dampened by the social commentary of his bar mate.

“No, uh, no Sam still left, couple years back now.”

Sensing the sour tone of his words, the Waitress reached out to pat Dean’s hands. “Hey, Dean, I’m sorry, I remember he had a job waiting for him back in California, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Looking at downcast eyes, the girl brightened up, slapping Dean’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, first beer’s on me okay?”

“Your mum won’t be very happy with that Jo.”

“C’mon, treat it like a welcome back drink, and anyhow, she’s not even here yet.” Jo’s eyes sparkled as she went about the bar to make Dean’s drink then sloshing it back to him with a small, shy smile. “Anyway Dean, welcome back, I sure did miss you.”

Dean picked up his drink and tipped it towards Jo, who responded with a clink of her own drink. “Missed you too Jo.”

“And hey, stick around for a bit, if mum gets back and finds out she missed you she’ll be pissed, and I’ll be blamed for it!”

“It would do my sore eyes good to see Ellen! Coming back to this place had made me realise how long it’s been.”

“Sore eyes huh? Never pegged you for the older women” Jo teased. Dean just rolled his eyes in response and huffed out a laugh before taking another swig of beer.

Eyeing his surroundings, Dean settled into his seat to enjoy the buzz of conversation around him, letting the air of comfort swallow him up. The entire experience of drinking at the Roadhouse was wholly amicable, something Dean greatly missed about social drinking. Though for Dean it wasn’t always about being sociable. Popping into the Roadhouse for a solo drink was always a good idea. He was there on his own terms, he didn’t have to wait around for his friends; though he didn’t have many, and he never had to rely on decent conversation with a potential date; more often than not winning the favour of whichever bartender was on the rota. Though for Dean, Jo was never on the menu. Not only was she more like a younger sister to him, he was absolutely certain, her mother, and owner of the Roadhouse would kill him. Ellen Harvelle was a no-nonsense, gun-toting, beer-slinging woman with a heart of gold. Her maternal energy softened her around the edges slightly, but at the crack of a whip she could harden. It was obvious she had a soft-spot for Dean, and Dean would never wish to disrespect their relationship by thinking with his dick. His unwavering loyalty to the Harvelle’s was a rare gem that had been carved carefully with patience from Dean’s core.

By his third beer Dean was feeling jovial, comfortable in the bar stool as he deeply conversed with Jo. Swapping stories, town gossip, indistinct chatter of who’s dating who, who works where and if Dean had heard about what had happened to Ash, a previous Roadhouse employee.

“…I tell you Dean, it’s a complete conspiracy.”

“What? I never heard any of this Jo? Tell me.”

Jo eyed the man sitting two seats away from Dean suspiciously before leaning in, “Okay, so not long after he disappeared, I overheard that he was involved in some big cover….” Jo’s eyes darted upwards before she straightened up and smiled brightly.

Dean was gawking at Jo, half annoyed and half intrigued, until he heard her, the matriarch of the joint.

“Dean Winchester, what took you so long to get your scrawny ass back down here? Not so much as a phone call? Not even a drop in? You better not have found some other saloon to spend your time in?” Ellen sounded light-hearted but her jokes held a serious tone to it. “Come here boy, let me get a good look at you.”

Ellen grabbed Dean’s face, moving it around as she inspected him. Feeling overly exposed, Dean tried to duck away. Fussing, Ellen commented on how tired Dean was looking. Moving back behind the counter, Ellen regarded Dean before pouring him another beer, scrutinizing him.

“Talk to me Dean, tell me everything. I want to hear what’s been going on in that exciting life of yours? I want to know what has been keeping you away from me and Jo.”

The alcohol had loosened his lips to a degree, and as much as he wanted to vent to Ellen, he still felt the wall blocking the truth. The shame of his behaviour towards Sam still embalmed him, and not being certain of Ellen or Jo’s reaction to why Sam really left, Dean decided to close himself off.

“Nothing much Ellen, and hardly anything exciting. Just getting things together back on the Ranch, takes a lot of work you know.”

“You finally got the Ranch in working order? That’s great Dean!”

“Well, not working order just yet, but I am working on it.”

Ellen made a face of surprise before she reined it in, “You gonna hire help?”

“I’m still in the planning stages and what not, but yeah, maybe, eventually.”

The rounds of questions persisted, leaving Dean slightly strung out. Avoiding questions that he deemed too personal, too invasive or just too unnerving, Dean managed to sway the conversation towards Ellen and Jo. Inquisitive about their lives and what had been going on while he was M.I.A. Particularly eager to find out what had happened with Ash, though in his efforts he was cut off by a glare and not so subtle shake of the head from Jo, and Ellen tutting and rounding on her daughter to drill in that she should never discuss private matters of previous or current employees to customers.

As their dispute settled, Dean raised a hand to signal his fifth beer but Ellen was quick to swat him away, “No more for you Dean, you’re driving.”

Dean laughed at the joke, then stopped when he caught Ellen’s eye. “What? You’re serious? You don’t even know how many I’ve had.”

The look on Ellen’s face gave him the answer he didn’t want. And Jo awkwardly busying herself behind her mother only established things further. Dean was not privy to their private discussion, and he bristled to think about people talking about him while he was sat there.

Trying again, Dean spoke up, “I can always come back for her.”

“Yeah because that’s believable, Dean Winchester leaving his baby unattended in this part of town!”

Dean narrowed his eyes and thought of how to play this game. But Ellen was a stubborn woman, and she was the landlady, in the case of her words against his, she was in the win, Dean had no chance to settle his case. “Eugh fine, cut me off! I was going to head out anyway.”

Dean tried to joke but internally he was feeling a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. He had always been a big drinker, and sure, people knew that, but most people didn’t know the full extent of it. Ellen had never cut him off after four beers before, and it was beer for Christ’s sake, not even Whiskey.

“You’re not going to stick around for a burger or nothing?”

“I would prefer to wash it down with a beer.” Dean could barely look at Ellen.

“You’re always welcome here Dean, you’d make well to know that.”

Sliding off the stool with an awkward attempt of eye contact with Jo, Dean waved off a half-hearted salute, ignoring the silent conversation going on between the mother and daughter duo. Slinking out of the bar and into the warm air of the early evening, Dean curled his lips inwards tightly and squinted off out onto the residing streets, deciding where would be worth going next. He still wanted another drink, had been planning on hitting the harder stuff after a warm up of beers, but Ellen was clearly happy to be an obstacle on that front. Making his way back to his baby, he settled back behind the wheel of his car. Stroking the dash as he quietly murmured that he was in fact joking about leaving her here alone. Enjoying the deep rumble of the engine for a moment, Dean drove away from the Roadhouse, not sure of where he was going but knowing it was in search of more alcohol, preferably a place with a more lenient gatekeeper.

As he trundled away from the Roadhouse, Dean couldn’t help but fixate on Ellen’s decision. Why would she cut him off like that? She had never done that before, was there something she knew? If so, to what extent was her knowledge? Had Sam called her? It must have been Sam, she hadn’t mentioned him at all during her spitfire of questions. Surely if she hadn’t heard from or spoken to Sam she would have been just as concerned about his brother as she was about him. The paranoia swelled until it became a living, breathing beast. Happy to take up residency inside Dean’s mind, happy to breathe life into the myriad of reasons why Sam had called Ellen, and what exactly they had spoken about.

Clenching his hands, Dean grew more and more nervous and agitated the longer he was behind the wheel and to alleviate the pressure, he made a swift decision to pull into the next bar he came across. The glow of an out-of-the-way, suitable-seedy little joint lit the darkening sky, and guided Dean’s inner turmoil into a vacant parking spot. Eager to gain entry into the unfamiliar territory of a new bar, Dean parked, uncaring of the lines, and made his way inside.

Hand on the rough paintwork that coated the doors, Dean pushed them open, causing the hinges to squeal as though in warning, but their plea was silenced over the overpowering rock music that filtered through the air, competing against the laugher and conversation of the patrons. The smoke twisted in its artistic way, forming curls in the gloom, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles; every vice that Dean should be avoiding. Winding his way through the throng of warm bodies piled on the small makeshift dance floor, Dean flagged down the Bartender and ordered Bourbon, double. As he watched the drink being poured with hungry eyes, Dean felt the pleasant pressure of a body behind his. Turning, he caught the glossy eyes of a young blonde girl who gestured to the dance floor. Dean smiled back but shook his head no, reaching to take the glass of Whiskey and tilt it in her line of sight. Masking her disappointment but acknowledging the refusal, the girl slinked off and disappeared into the darkness. Leaving Dean to tread lightly around his new watering hole, he observed the conversations that swirled in dirty clouds of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hidden within the assortment of odours from the establishment. He watched as people danced freely, drunk or high as their sweaty bodies gyrated against one another. Turning his back to the crowd, Dean allowed himself the taste of his drink, and at the first tickle of Whiskey on his tongue, Dean was lost.

As the night went on, Dean became more comfortable with the crowd, intoxicated by the spirits and the moments all the same. Under the influence of alcohol everything was fun. Conversations, which under normal circumstances would be dull became thrilling; the result of muddled words, loss of filter and a burning desire to be brutally honest. There was of course still the small voice quietly nagging at the back of his mind, reminding him that tomorrow he may not feel the same and his actions would have repercussions; and of course that voice was ignored. Because with each drink offered it seems like a better and better idea. The jokes of the bartender became funnier, the people around him become more attractive and Dean found himself in a comforting lull of bliss; being drunk was his coping mechanism. The Whiskey turned down the volume of his thoughts, and in that moment he didn’t exist, and that steadied him.

Dean was propped up against the bar, breathing in the smoky air. His head had a way of lolling when he was close to complete inebriation, and though the bartender wasn’t familiar with Dean, he was well versed enough in his occupation to spot the signs. Dean raised his hands with less co-ordination of someone with a concussion and slurred more than spoke, “Whiiiissssskeeey.” The bartender huffed then laughed, “No more for you man, we’re closing up shop.” It took a colossal amount of concentration for Dean to understand the language the bartender had just uttered. Sensing his confusion, the bartender repeated himself. “Hey man, its 4am, time to leave.” Understanding the second attempt, Dean raised his glassy eyes to the clock on the wall behind the barkeep. Squinting to make out the jumble of numbers, he blinked hard a few times to retry his efforts. Still not being able to make it out, Dean, in his drunken state, just stood there, leaning heavily against the bar. The place still had a number of stragglers that were slowly but surely filtering out, but Dean remained. “Hey look man can I call someone for you, a taxi or whatever?” Dean grunted, then answered by pulling out his car keys before dropping them onto the hard floor with a loud splat. Staring at them in bewilderment, Dean stumbled slightly, placed a hand on the bar to steady himself, and then bent down to pick them up. Swaying on his feet, Dean nodded at the bartender before turning around and making for the door. Faintly he heard someone talking loudly, but paid no mind to it. Not until that someone grabbed him and held him still. “Hey man there is no way I’m letting you drive away from here, hey, hey man look at me? Can you hear me?” Dean hummed and nodded. “You’re not driving.” Dean wasn’t sure what was happening but his pliant body allowed the bartender to manoeuvre him to nearest chair. Dean was drifting in and out as the Bartender tried to get answers out of him.

“What’s your name?”

Dean just stared back at him.

“Name? What’s you name?”

“D-Dean”

And when asked if there was someone to help him, all Dean could do was slur “Sammy, get Sammy, I need Sammy” over and over. Finding Dean’s phone in his backpocket, the bartender swiped through until he found the desired contact. Pressing the call button, he hoped that whoever this Sammy was, he would still be awake. The first and second calls rang out, providing no hope, and on the third, just as he was thinking to cancel the call, an unsure voice sounded. “Hello? Dean?”

“Uh, yeah hi, my name’s Adam, I’m so sorry to wake you but I’m a bartender at the Caged Devil downtown and I’ve got Dean here, he’s asking for you.”

There was no response, and with the line silent Adam had to pull the phone away to check if the call was still live. It was.

“Uh hello? Again sorry about this but your friend Dean is tanked and I couldn’t just let him walk out and drive home. He’s asked for you numerous times which is why I called, do you think you could swing by and come pick him up? Or if you know his address I could call a taxi?”

“Dean asked for me?”

“Uh yeah man, well are you Sammy?”

There was another long pause, then a stern “I can’t pick him up.”

“Oh, okay uh, that’s no problem, then if you know his address that’ll work wonders.”

“If he drove there, honestly he won’t be happy if he leaves without his car, just stick him in the back seat and let him sleep it off.”

Adam was mildly stunned by the response. “And you definitely can’t pick him up?”

“I’m in California, so how am I supposed to do that?”

The line went dead. Staring down at the phone, Adam grew irritated. With the remaining stragglers cleared out, it was only him and a now passed out man that obviously wasn’t going anywhere without some help.

Grumbling, Adam managed to pull Dean up and support most of his dead weight with an arm behind Dean’s back and under his arm. Shuffling out of the joint was a hassle but it was easy to locate the car in question. Not because it was the last car to occupy the lot, it was also a real beauty. Now understanding the curt man on the phone, Adam too understood that he would never leave behind a classic car like this, and especially in this part of town. Fumbling with the keys, he managed to get the door open, though not anticipating how heavy the door would be. Struggling, he shifted himself inside first as he dragged Dean behind him. Pulling Dean inside then arching away to dissect himself away from the car’s interior. Tucking Dean’s legs in, he shut the door before running back inside the bar, immerging only minutes later with a blanket and a note. Opening the door to cover Dean with the blanket, he couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for the guy, it seemed like he had no one. As a bartender, he had seen all sorts of sorry cases coming in to fill their voids with alcohol, and Dean fitted the bill completely. Leaning over to place the note on the front seat, Adam got out to open the passenger door to place the keys inside the glove compartment. Once securely out of sight, he manually locked all the doors, then shut the last door to lock Dean safely inside. Taking a moment to regard the wasted man in front of him, Adam sighed. He wasn’t on shift tomorrow so he wouldn’t see the outcome, but he really hoped that Dean woke up to a better day.

Eyes blinking open just a crack, Dean groaned deeply. As consciousness rolled in, the headache struck for him to become helpless, a prisoner in his cage of pain. Blinded by the flashing spots in his vision, Dean suddenly craved the quiet and stillness of being blacked out, though his nausea was not allowing that. As the pain throbbed violently around his skull, Dean wondered why it wouldn’t just crack open already. He leant his head against the seat, upsetting the swill of alcohol in his brain causing another tidal wave of throbs. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the pain to go away. The rest of the world became detached and all he could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep inside his head. Forcing himself to sit up, it was then he realised he was in the back of his car, and also covered in a blanket, as it fell from his shoulders. Confused beyond belief, Dean tried to work out what was happening. Bleary eyes managing to focus just enough beyond the windscreen, Dean saw a bar with the dull sign of ‘Caged Devil’ out the front. Frowning, Dean couldn’t remember if he knew a bar called ‘Caged Devil’ and he was certain he hadn’t entered it last night. But if not, why was he parked outside? Considering on going inside to inquire about his vexing questions, Dean glanced at the time for it to read 7:28am. He had a habit of waking early after a night of drinking, and at half seven in the morning it was certain no one would be around or in the bar. Gripping the back of the front bench with both hands, Dean pressed his head against it before he noticed a piece of paper folded neatly on the seat in front of the wheel. Tenderly reaching over to pick it up, Dean unfolded the paper to reveal a hand scrawled note: ‘Keys are in the glove compartment – keep the blanket’. Staring down at the note, and considering it to be a very important piece to a very confusing puzzle, Dean reached forward, careful not to press on his stomach, and opened the compartment to find his keys. The writing on the note was not his own, which meant someone had been in here with him last night. Adjusting himself and finding no soreness, that evidence wasn’t enough to deduct if he had slept with anyone or not. And the blanket, where was that from? It probably was the doing of the same person who left the note, though strange as not much was around and it wasn’t like someone would just have one handy. As he was thinking why on earth someone would be compelled to leave a note, Dean realised his memory was wiped, meaning whoever he was with last night knew this. Before he could worry about any embarrassing drunken behaviour, Dean realised that some stranger had access to both his car and keys. With the state he was in last night, he could have woken up in a much worse position. Dean spent the next few minutes contemplating the implications of that information. In his drunken state, he had practically handed over the keys to his beloved Baby. As the thread of thoughts unravelled, Dean couldn’t help but think about the mystery person in question, and whether or not he did get laid last night. The thoughts soured as he realised that whoever he had spent the night with hadn’t wanted to stay, though kind enough to leave a note and his keys in a safe place, weren’t eager enough to wake up beside him. Immediately, Dean shook himself off from his insecurities. There was no way of knowing if he’d slept with someone and if they’d left before he woke up, or if some kindly stranger had helped him out. Why his brain enjoyed picking his confidence apart was beyond his comprehension. Though even though the evidence of a one night stand was scant, Dean couldn’t help but dwell on just how lonely he felt. Waking up in the back of his car, alone, after a night of drinking, alone. His loneliness was sobering and it bothered him greatly, considering the state of limbo he was now floating in forced him to face pained questions. Thoughts of Benny came into view but Dean swatted them away. Because yes, sometimes their friendship would become intimate, Benny had made it clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship. Initially, that had stung, but Dean himself wasn’t even sure if he would want Benny in that way. However, Benny’s companionship was the closest thing Dean had ever had to a relationship, and sometimes it was the only thing he could hold onto in his darkest of days. As Benny left his mind, Castiel entered unexpectedly. Those blue eyes staring back at him, memories of Dean’s rut they’d shared together, and those small moments of tenderness. Losing himself to those thoughts, another ache brought him back to reality. He was going about this all wrong, and his damn anger was controlling things. Castiel was there to provide company, company Dean so desperately craved, and with their terrible start, Dean was uncertain if he would ever be able to fix it. Perhaps it was already too late. Dean, wishing for company of his own, started to feed into the idea of reaching out to the Omega.

Hobbling from the back seat to the front, Dean took a moment to rest his head on the wheel and breathe deeply. Queasiness pulling at his stomach, Dean decided it was time to put the puzzle down and make his way back to his Ranch. Stiff and aching, Dean pulled away with the thought that maybe the bliss of drinking wasn't really worth the suffering the following morning. He had no idea what had compelled him to completely obliterate himself, but he knew he had done something pretty awful. When he had to work so hard to completely wipe his hard drive, the more demanding the reparations his subconscious required, the worse he knew it was.

As he turned onto more familiar roads of town, Dean sat back into auto-pilot. In his daze, thoughts would drift to Castiel and his odd, bizarre behaviour. In the time he had him, Castiel hadn’t spoken to him. Idle thinking had Dean wondering if Castiel was in fact mute by choice, which was no surprise showing how stubborn the Omega was. Another thing the Omega persisted with was the hand gestures. Dean still didn’t understand them and briefly wondered if his Pet was simply trying to tell him something. Shaking his thoughts from his head, Dean concluded that if the Omega really wanted to communicate with him, why wouldn’t he just speak? That dog’s stubbornness knew no bounds! As Dean drove, his thoughts wavered but followed a rhythmic pattern of falling back onto Castiel and his hands. Straining his mind was too much of a stretch with his brain addled with the consequences of drink, but a niggling feeling kept bringing him back to the use of his hands. Castiel was adamant to use them so was it a signal? Was Castiel trying to show Dean that the cuffs were too painful for him, hurting his hands? Maybe he was injured, and since he was deciding to be mute, showing Dean was the only way to communicate he was hurt. That made sense, though had Castiel’s hands been injured this entire time? When did his Pet start signalling his distress? Dean felt a small wave of guilt flush through him. Possibly this entire time the Omega was indicating that he was injured. With the guilt chasing hot at his heels, Dean decided that from then on, Castiel would be uncuffed; regardless of whatever teaching Benny spouted, he would remain collared, but to help him out, he would remove the cuffs. With a sudden urge to get home, Dean unconsciously put his foot down on the accelerator.

Making it home in one piece was mildly surprising as Dean was sure that he was still over the limit. The drive had been somewhat distracting, though now faced with the reality of his thoughts, Dean understood the weight of his next actions. Those actions would acquire Castiel’s trust, but would require Dean’s patience. Already at a brick wall, Dean wasn’t a patient man by nature, and was certain his hair-trigger temper would undoubtedly cause problems. There was a shift in Dean, and racked with overwhelming thoughts of his plan of actions, Dean attempted to put a stop to his jarring thoughts by deciding to first get the Omega’s breakfast ready.

There was a pressure on his shoulder, just erring on this side of painful. Brain muddled in the fog of sleep, battling to grab onto any consciousness, Castiel slowly started to register the feeling. There was a hand gripping his shoulder. Mouth opening in a silent scream, Castiel immediately cringed away from the touch before he was even certain of who was touching him. Eyes scrunched up, Castiel refused to open them in fear of seeing the glowing red ones he was so terrified of.

Feeling himself be pulled up, Castiel kept his eyes tightly closed. He was shaken slightly, causing his head to rattle. On the second, slightly harder shake, Castiel reluctantly peeked his eyes open a fraction. The Alpha was back, and he was staring right at Castiel with a hardened look on his face. Frozen, Castiel sat still, awaiting the next move. Dean was giving him a funny look, staring at him with eyes that seemed to be searching for something. He reached out his hand, only to hesitate, before carding his hand through Castiel’s hair. Castiel immediately tensed, eyes squeezing shut, preparing himself as best he could for the attack. None came, just the gentle feeling of his hair being stroked. Still awaiting the onslaught of physical abuse, Castiel sat still and pliant, believing any movement could potentially set the Alpha off.

The lack of response from the Omega was throwing him off. Frowning, Dean tried to work out his angle. As he looked the Omega over, he noticed he was cradling his left hand pretty tightly. Wordlessly, Dean knelt down in front of Castiel to take the Omega’s limp hand gently in his own. Castiel’s only reaction was to wince at the pain of movement, other than that, he sat rigid and still, eyes avoiding Deans. Observing his Pet’s actions, Dean hung his head. He was right about the hand injury, all this time the cuffs had been causing him pain, and why Castiel had been gesturing so much with his hands. Wordlessly, Dean removed the cuffs, folded them up and tucked them into his back pocket. No point keeping them in here anymore, there now was no use for them. Sitting there in a quiet moment, Dean continued to stroke Castiel’s left hand, unsure of what else to do. Castiel was still ignoring him, just sitting there quietly, his reactions limited, though the occasional flinch would show itself whenever Dean’s hand strayed up towards his hair or his cheek. Memory having been wiped from the day before, Dean could still estimate that the Omega’s behaviour was a direct result of his own, causing a fresh batch of guilt to travel through him.

There was still the essence of inebriation, and the rolling effect of his hangover, but Dean was certain the churning in his stomach was more likely from nerves. “Hey Castiel, morning. I’ve brought you some breakfast and fresh water.” Dean waited for a response but just got the Omega staring back at him, slightly alarmed. “I get that you don’t want to speak to me, with how I’ve behaved, but maybe it is best if you just listen to what I have to say.” Dean settled himself next to where Castiel was curled up, one hand still holding Castiel’s. “The reason I bought you was to provide company along with assisting with my ruts. And given from where I bought you from, I should have been more accommodating to your situation, to your needs.” Dean paused, eyeing the Omega to gauge whether it would be sensible to continue. His pet’s downcast eyes were not helping.

“The thing is, I have always struggled with relationships. Family, friends, and now seemingly Pets. It’s the intimate nature of them, I guess I have trouble opening up to people. Our communication has been limited, and given your choice to not speak to me, it’s been incredibly hard on me. I don’t understand what I should do, or what I can do to help you.” Castiel remained tense, Dean continued to stroke his sore hand to ease his nerves. “Why do you defy me? If you just listened to what I said, if you just did what I asked, there would be no punishments, there would be no chains or cold nights in the Barn. I bought you as my Pet, an Omega to live with me. I chose you, I wanted you. I just wish you listened to me, I wish you spoke to me.” Dean had opened his own floodgate of emotions and burning questions, and the more he spoke the more he earned for Castiel to respond. He stared back at him, teetering on the edge as he waited patiently for a response, for anything. Castiel remained passive, he just stared back at him. “Castiel, I didn’t buy you to hurt you, and I know it may seem like it. I’ve hurt you, I know, and I regret it, I regret all of this. I admit I don’t know how to handle you, which is why I need to you help me to help you. My anger frequently takes hold of me but that is no excuse for my actions or how I’ve behaved. You must know I am truly sorry. Your disobedience just riles me up and I lose control of myself. Despite this, I don’t want you to be scared of me. I want you to feel safe with me, I want you to want to be with me.” Dean sat patiently as he stroked Castiel’s hand, something that was an anchor as the floodgate dried up to reveal that Dean had exposed his vulnerability. In the silence Dean hoped that Castiel just needed a moment, so he waited.

Castiel wasn’t sure if the Alpha didn’t know if he was deaf or if he simply didn’t care. Though watching the Alpha speaking unintelligibly at him, it only served to show that he didn’t know. Castiel sat and stared as the Alpha’s mouth moved quickly, his eyes staring at him for some parts then darting away for others; and again there was no way of knowing what he wanted. The Alpha was still stroking his left hand. Unsure of why he was doing that, Castiel knew it would be best to just allow it, even though with each stroke it caused a pang of pain to run through it. Trying as hard as he could to hide the pained winces, Castiel hoped his body would just shut down. The whole situation was utterly confusing. The last time the Alpha was before him, he had beaten him senseless, now here he was again. Perhaps this was a test, and his reactions were the answers. Although, he so desperately wanted to try and communicate, he knew it would be a lost cause. With how the Alpha was treating him, would he even care that he was deaf? Or what would happen if he found out and didn’t like that he was defective? Would he get rid of him? Would he put him down? Though, that last option didn’t seem too terrible. Castiel immediately shrunk in on himself, opting to just sit passively and take whatever the Alpha dished out. Hopefully if he didn’t move, react or respond, the Alpha would just leave him alone. Turning his gaze downward, Castiel waited for the Alpha to finish and prayed he would get out of this unscathed.

As Dean trailed off and finished his heart felt confession, he noticed the Omega was just staring at the floor. No movement, no reaction, nothing. As the silence grew so did Dean’s unsettled nerves. A cold chill bit its way down Dean’s spine as he realised that this may been a mistake, opening himself up like this, sharing himself to an indifferent dog who didn’t care about any of it, would perhaps even mock Dean for the information he now knew. Feeling exposed and truly vulnerable Dean tried once more, “Castiel?” The Omega just sat there, eyes drifting from the floor, holding Dean’s own for a moment before moving to stare into the empty space of the Barn. Realisation of what he had just said caused his words to become caught in his throat. He looked back up at Castiel, who was still listlessly staring into space, when he felt the heat rising on his cheeks. Hoping it wasn’t noticeable, he coughed and pushed his hair back, suddenly desperate for a drink of water. Embarrassed, Dean gathered himself up and removed his presence as quickly as he could. What an idiot he was, how could he possibly think the Omega would want to hear him out, that it would really care what he had to say. The humiliation burned inside of him as he made his way back to the house, hands shaking as he felt his mind detaching from his body, scolding himself for revealing intimate information about himself. Reeling from his decision to try and talk to the Omega, Dean hated what a pathetic Alpha he was. He couldn’t even control an Omega, having to stoop down and relinquish any control he had by revealing his weaknesses. Dean slumped down on his sofa and began to realise that maybe getting a dog wasn’t a smart move. It wasn’t like anything Dean had imagined about owning an Omega, and it clearly wasn’t working out. The disobedience and the stubbornness of his Pet never failed to send Dean flying over the rails, catapulted by his own anger. Dean should have anticipated that his temper was a potential issue and the Omega flared it up easily. But that last show of pure indifference hadn’t settled right with Dean at all, and thinking down the line, would he eventually want a dog like that in his own home.

Dean’s thoughts moulded around the memory of first seeing Castiel’s picture at the auction, how instinctual the feeling was to bring him home. How wrong he was, a fatal error of judgement. Dean’s mind whirred as he remembered the explicit threat upon leaving the facility with his doomed prize, shuddering at what potentially would happen if he returned to the facility, Omega in tow, and put his hand out to receive a refund. Dean would never walk in daylight again. If he couldn’t simply return him though, what could he do? Were there special drop off points for unwanted Omegas, or a place he could sell him to another Alpha without the threat of serious injury or death? Another option were those Omega vets that would put down unwanted or abandoned Omegas for a price. An even easier option would be leaving Castiel in the Barn chained up and any contact limited to daily feedings and water, but Dean immediately scrapped that thought, as that sounded more like a hindrance than anything else. Plus it would be better for his own state of mind to remove Castiel from his property. His anger and his alcoholic cravings had severely spiked since he brought home the damned Omega dog. The negative rippling effect it was having on Dean was taking its toll and it was about time he put his own well-being first. Owning Castiel had been for the most part, incredibly stressful, and it wasn’t something Dean looked forward to continuing with. Especially now that he’d let his guard down and given the Omega plenty of ammo to use against him. He had been stupid enough to show his weaknesses, and now the Omega had the upper hand. This was the one thing Benny had repeatedly drilled into him not to let happen, for Dean to remain the Alpha, the dominant one, and in his stupidity, he had royally screwed that up. Firmly believing that from there, there was no salvaging the damage of the situation, Dean also realised that there was also no gaining back control or respect.

For Dean, as an Alpha, no control or respect from a lesser Omega was the coup de grâce, the final blow that cemented his decision. 

He would get rid of Castiel.


	10. The Consequence of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the previous chapter took so long I thought I'd make up for it by posting this chapter early.
> 
> There is a flashback that has been presented in italics.

Sam had been sitting at his desk since lunch, pouring over the contract that his firm was negotiating. It had to be airtight; any loophole found would be the death of any success for his firm. With Sam’s meticulous eye for detail, it was no wonder he had been tasked with the assignment. It was a huge compliment, and something Sam was taking incredibly seriously. Making his way steadily through the pages, Sam handled the contract with dexterity, confident in his approach that no indiscretion would play on his part. 

Glancing at the time and finding it to be already past midnight, Sam brought himself out of his hunched position to pull his shoulders back in a delicious pull of his muscles, slowly craning his neck and tilting his chin up. Bringing his arms out and up to his shoulders before stretching them fully outwards. His stiffness told him how long he had been sat at his desk, but he was adamant to keep going. Deciding a quick trip to his fridge would suffice as a break, Sam stood, stretching out the kinks in his lower back and shoulders to slowly walk to the kitchen. Turning on the light to an immediate fizzle and snap, the bulb burnt out. Sighing, Sam made his way to the fridge in the darkness, blindly reaching out to open it, providing the only glow of light. Leaning in to have a look, he was annoyed to find his fridge was scarce. The only somewhat edible things were two eggs and some leftover milk. Unless he found himself with an appetite for mouldy bread, the eggs were the only option. Torn between eating now and saving the eggs for breakfast, a deep gurgle from his stomach indicated that he hadn’t fed himself since lunchtime. Keeping the fridge door open to allow himself light, Sam went about finding the smallest pan, having decided to make scrambled eggs. Breaking both eggs into a cup and whisking them, Sam heated up the pan before pouring the contents of the eggs in; hoping the eggs would survive the process without butter. With a sniff of the milk, Sam found no offence so he decided to risk it, adding a splash to accompany the egg mixture. Within five minutes, Sam had simultaneously created his meal and used up his entire supply of food. Having become so absorbed with his work, he had neglected to keep on top of things. Tomorrow, he would go to the store, he would go to the store with his list of necessities, get himself the requirements and nothing more. Sam was not someone to overindulge himself, in fact, he quite preferred to stick only to the basics of one’s needs.

Sam wasn’t struggling with money, for him it was quite the opposite. His full ride on the back of Stanford’s generosity meant he graduated with no student debt and breezing into a position at an Environmental Law Firm put him on a good wedge, even as a newly qualified Lawyer. Regardless of his success, his scrupulous saving habits and refusal to step over any line of self-indulgence stemmed from his poor upbringing. After the untimely death of his mother, the collapse of a homely life and the loss of their childhood home due to drink and drug abuse on his father’s part, life for his family had meant life living on the road. His father, John, constantly uprooting their lives looking for potential work, lived paycheck to paycheck, mostly cash in hand sort of deals. This meant that whenever John wasn’t fortunate enough to find work, their little family of three were forced to go without eating that night, and the boys were forced to witness their father’s drunken tirades of anger and abuse.

Whenever John did find work, it meant disappearing for days or even weeks at a time, leaving Dean to be the sole provider for his younger brother; doing anything he could to keep them both safe, fed and watered. Sam knew all along the kind of things Dean did to provide for them both. If he wasn’t using the five-fingered discount at the local convenience stores or gas stations, Dean was hustling some drunken guys at pool, or he was getting into the backs of cars with shady men, only to return later, pale and slightly bedraggled. Sam was only a kid then, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what Dean was doing wasn’t normal, knew that it was most likely illegal due to Dean being underage, and struggled with the burden of whether to tell their father or tell Dean what he knew. However, the consequences of revealing what was happening may have made things worse, and not trusting his father, Sam remained quiet. One thing that he didn’t know was whether Dean’s excuses were made up for his own benefit, or for Dean’s. If every night after coming back to their motel room, Dean telling Sam everything was okay and that everything would work out, Sam wondered that maybe to keep going, Dean needed to convince himself. If Dean knew that Sam knew, he never mentioned it. Just carried on like the beacon of positivity and reassurance he always was in Sam’s life. No matter how he got the money, he always made sure Sam was fed, even at times forgoing his own meals to keep his brother happy. Dean protected Sam fiercely and did anything he could to prove how much he loved his brother.

Besides his hefty savings account, Sam’s upbringing was ingrained into who he was as a person. He wasn’t someone to justify unnecessary or reckless spending. He was happy to live well inside his means, where he was comfortable and most importantly happy. Sam still lived in a respectable part of town and in a respectable little one-bed apartment. It suited his needs just fine, though the faulty wiring seemed to be a reoccurring issue, Sam was genuinely quite content in the little place he called home. 

Finishing up with his, slightly dry, scrambled eggs, Sam shut the fridge to cut off his light source, and then ambled back into his bedroom to once again occupy his desk. The desk was a recycled wood upon strong iron legs, each at a jaunty angle as if it were stretching before a pleasant jog. In the corner, Sam had scratched into the surface his initials, S.W. which was a habit, actually more of a ritual for him to conjure up pleasant memories of his past. It always reminded him of the back of the Impala, where a similar scratching was imprinted next to Dean’s initials, where he and Dean spent a lot of their time together as kids.

Fingering the engraving, Sam turned his attention back to the papers that were stacked neatly into their appropriate piles, preparing himself mentally to once again sieve through the contract to highlight any anomalies. As he settled into another heavy-duty work session, the shrill chirping of his phone interrupted the quiet contemplation. Annoyed that his mental clarity had been disturbed, Sam was happy to let it ring out, believing it was probably just one of his friends on a drunken night out; knowing his girlfriend Jess to be out of town so not bothering to look. Once again, the phone sounded to alert him of an incoming call. Rolling his eyes he looked down at the screen to see which one of his friends had drunk dialled him. On the screen, the name showing wasn’t one of his friends; it was his brother, Dean. Staring down at the phone, mouth slightly agape, Sam couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Dean? Calling him? Why? The answers to those curious questions would be easily settled by picking up the phone, but Sam just could not bring himself to do it. He was still shocked, even when his phone rang out and locked to mirror back his own look of disbelief. Dean’s name brightened up the screen once again, persistent. This time Sam went to answer it, though his shaking hands were a silent give away to his reluctance. 

“Hello? Dean?” Sam hated how small and unsure he sounded. He wasn’t afraid of his brother anymore, he wasn’t!

A voice, which was not Dean’s, quickly sounded, and relieved to hear Sam’s voice. “Uh, yeah hi, my name’s Adam, I’m so sorry to wake you but I’m a bartender at the Caged Devil downtown and I’ve got Dean here, he’s asking for you.”

It took a moment for Sam to register what the other man on the line had said. His heart was pumping loudly in his ears; his adrenaline had spiked to prepare him for the conversation with Dean and was now dropping just as quickly. Dean in a bar? Hardly a surprise. But asking for him? Now that was genuine astonishment.

Sam hadn’t realised he had remained silent until he heard the guy speak up, “Uh hello? Again sorry about this but your friend Dean is tanked and I couldn’t just let him walk out and drive home. He’s asked for you numerous times which is why I called, do you think you could swing by and come pick him up? Or if you know his address I could call a taxi?”

Before Sam could even think, the words poured out of him, incredulous “Dean asked for me?”

“Oh yeah man, well are you Sammy?”

Sammy? He hadn’t been called that in years, and to hear it from someone other than Dean stirred something ugly inside him. Sammy was another person; Sammy was a small kid with a shattered childhood of disappointment, someone he left behind when we moved to California. It wasn’t who he was anymore. Soured, Sam was stern in his reply “I can’t pick him up.”

“Oh, okay uh, that’s no problem, then if you know his address that’ll work wonders.”

Sam had distanced himself far away from Dean, and though he felt like he didn’t know his brother anymore, feeling more like a stranger, he still knew one thing for certain, “If he drove there, honestly he won’t be happy if he leaves without his car, just stick him in the back seat and let him sleep it off.”

Sam was growing impatient of the conversation and waited for another inevitable request when he heard the surprise evident from the man on the line, “And you definitely can’t pick him up?”

“I’m in California, so how am I supposed to do that?” Sam spat out, before hanging up. A torrent of emotions flooded through him. What the hell was that? Dean calling him after all these years… wait it wasn’t actually Dean calling, Sam reminded himself. By the Bartenders summary, Dean was hammered and had no way of getting home. A pang of guilt shot through him which Sam quickly snuffed out by wolfing down the remainder of his scrambled eggs. He would not feel guilty about Dean and his drinking, he wouldn’t. It wasn’t his fault his dad treated Dean the way he did, it wasn’t his fault that as a result Dean mirrored the behaviour of his father, and it wasn’t his fault Dean self-medicated. It wasn’t.

Suddenly feeling too strung out, Sam knew going over the paperwork in his current frame of mind would be counter-productive. Instead, opting to flop down onto his bed and attempt to ignore his whirring thoughts and emotions stirred on by that phone call, and the implications of it.

**********************************************************************************

The Alpha suddenly moved away, dropping Castiel’s hand in the process, earning a pained gasp. Before Castiel could work out what was happening, looking up he caught the sight of the Alpha bolting out of the Barn and shutting the doors behind him. Sitting there, Castiel felt lighter. The Alpha had left him alone! Sitting still, sitting pliant and not reacting had worked! Though Castiel’s solution was most certainly short-lived, the Omega was just so relieved that the Alpha had gone, and the situation had thankfully ended without serious consequences. At the thought of consequences, Castiel slunk back down into the fear of the Alpha returning. Hoping that this small win would continue working for him, Castiel resumed his watch on the door, not wanting to put his guard down.

Sitting upright and rigid for so long was taking its toll on Castiel. With no other option but to lay back down, curling up on his side, Castiel surveyed his left hand. The bruising was starting to bloom, an array of purple and green blossoming across his pale skin. Staring down at it, Castiel couldn’t help but compare the pain of his hand with his own state of mind. Just like the confusion of this morning, the inside of his head of chaotic; a mess. The mental chaos was bothering him, it was hurting him, and something ached inside of him. Something felt so wrong, so invalid, but Castiel, in the haze of his mind, couldn’t tell what. He tried to pinpoint the cause for this unexplained, flaring pain, but failed. He tried to reason the unbearable burning but didn’t find any. Everything was so confusing, just like a jumbled set of a puzzle. A puzzle that Castiel didn’t know how to solve. Gently squeezing his hand, the reality of the pain anchored him. Not allowing him to lose himself in the storm of his thoughts. 

Laying tensely and on edge, Castiel found himself just staring into space. With his left hand useless and throbbing a gentle beat, he brought his right hand up to gently scratch the base of his skull. Along his hairline, his fingers found the gentle grooves of a bite mark. Fingering the scar tickled his subconscious to release a hidden memory. Before him, Castiel could see his brother crying. “Run Cassie, run!” echoed through his mind. Shaking his head away from the painful stream of thoughts, Castiel tried to lock it away, but it was too late. Like an old film reel whirring to life in the projector of his mind after being dusted off, it was now playing without his consent.

_“You can’t do this! How can you do this?”_

__

__

_Castiel flinched in his seat as Gabriel launched towards him and embraced him into a tight, protective hug._

__

_“Your father has every right to sell his property young man, and that property is now being sold to me.” Crowley sneered at the young Alpha in front of him._

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_“He’s not your property! He’s my baby brother! And you’re not taking him.” Gabriel cried back, clasping Castiel in such a grip that he could feel his ribs being crushed._

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_Castiel was reeling as the words around him sunk in. ‘Property’ and ‘sold’ lingered at the forefront of his mind and suddenly this whole set up made sense. He had heard about Omega’s being sold off for pets, had heard of them being sold to other Alpha’s. And now he had presented as an Omega, he was being sold! Sold as a pet! Attaching himself desperately to his older brother, Castiel had a dreadful feeling that if he let go, he would never see him again._

__

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_Tired of the theatrics, Crowley made his move, snapping his fingers to wordlessly command a suited man to appear, who didn't hesitate physically grabbing Castiel to haul him away from his devoted brother. The feeling of being ripped out of his brother’s arms was heart-wrenching. The warmth, the love, and the security all shattered by the grip of a hired goon._

__

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_“Dad, what’s happening? Dad?” Castiel wildly looked around for his father, but upon seeing his father’s emotionless face, the fear spiked inside Castiel. Starting to struggle, the strange man overpowered him by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, pinning him against his chest painfully. Attempting to buck out of his grip, Castiel started shrieking for Gabriel to help him. Gabriel was there in an instant, attempting to pry the goon's arms away from his brother. The only time Chuck was willing to intervene was to physically remove Gabriel and drag him away into another room. As his father pulled him away, Gabriel reached out to grab the door, halting the process, and screamed “Dad, how can you do this? He’s just a kid, a baby” before they both disappeared from sight, Gabriel’s cries heard from the other room._

__

__

_At that, Castiel was left alone with two strange men. Going pliant from fear as the weight of the situation smothered him, and without the support from his brother, Castiel didn’t react when the man picked him up and took him outside to where there was a waiting car. Crowley reached out to stroke his face while in the harsh clasp of the other man, spurring Castiel to start thrashing around in the grip, desperately calling out for Gabriel. Panic enveloping him when he couldn’t hear his response._

__

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_“It’s a shame you didn’t come willingly, as you would have ridden in the back with me. I quite liked you all innocent and naïve, touches me right where my bathing suit goes. But since you’re now aware of your misfortune, I think I’ll prefer it if you ride in the trunk.” Crowley opened the boot as the other man roughly threw him inside. Looking up, his last vision of daylight was fused with the image of a very cruel man grinning down at him._

__

__

Castiel felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen. Tension grew in his face and limbs, his mind trapped in the memory, replaying the last time he saw his family before he was sold. His breathing became more rapid, shallower. An invisible hand clasped over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierced his heart, unloading in an instant. Castiel felt his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into darkness. Castiel wanted to run, but he was frozen. Body paralyzed, he collapsed onto the damp barn floor, head rolling with the impact, eyes glazed as he froze in his nightmare. These painful memories, they're just the same as nightmares.

Castiel lay on the ground, his face closed in a grimace, his skin pale and clammy. Every few minutes he would scream out. It had a raw quality, the realness of a person consumed by pain that knew no end or limit. Then he would go quiet, just panting. Slowly, Castiel tried to get up but quickly realized how futile it was when he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Sharp pain lanced through his head and colourful spots flashed in front of his eyes, it felt like his whole body had been beaten, every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache. Regardless, he needed to get out of here, away from this brutish Alpha, he needed to get home, he needed Gabriel. Wincing in pain, he started to manoeuvre his twisted body to brace his right hand against the floor to support pushing himself up. Arm straining to carry his weight, he buckled in on himself. Consciousness ebbed; black mists swirled at the edges of his mind, drawing him into sweet oblivion.

The rest of the morning Dean was on edge, the anticipation of Benny’s arrival keeping him anxious and uneasy. Combining that with the ebb of his hangover, Dean was about ready to drop to the floor, crawl into bed and stay there. Once Benny had arrived, he found that he didn’t feel any better, his anxiety still simmering.

“And you’re seriously considering getting rid of him? Dean what happened?

Benny was lounging comfortably on the sofa, beer in hand, watching the TV with idle interest; humming every now and then when Dean spoke up. More often than not, their conversations were so much more than words. It was the smiles, the gentle shrugs and the light in their eyes. They were both elevated by each other's presence, even in the comfortable silences that sometimes followed. They were moments to savour, the company of the other and feeling that sense of peace that comes from feeling loved and protected, within the arms of friendship. However, this conversation was not one of those times. Benny was growing bored, finding the string of commercials more interesting then Dean rambling on about why his Pet wasn’t working out for him. Listening to the web of lies that Benny suspected was practiced, and certainly not something Dean was pulling from thin air. Benny knew Dean was hiding something; something along the way of the training scheme had gone wrong, if there was even was a training scheme in the first place, Benny seriously questioned that. And if he could bet his life savings, he would put that bet entirely on Dean. 

Dean was fidgeting; another obvious give away, and averting his gaze, “Nothing happened, I just realised it’s not a good fit is all.”

Benny scrutinized him, eyes boring into Dean’s as though trying to scrape the hidden information out of Dean’s brain with his mind. He so desperately wanted to call Dean out on it, wanted to put Dean out of this fumbling misery, but before that could even happen, Dean piped up again.

“So, what do you say? You want him?”

Benny halted in his tracks, slightly taken aback. Only partially listening to the conversation at hand had meant he missed out on the keynote of Dean’s speech. Letting the idea roll around his head, he considered the possibility, enjoying the pause which was putting Dean on edge, before he answered. “Maybe… I’m not saying I would, but if, and that’s a big if, I did, I wouldn’t want to upset the balance at mine. I’ve got two other dogs Dean, and they come first.”

Dean lit up, “Oh sure! Sure, of course! But it’s great you’re even considering it, definitely makes it easier on my part. I’ve been trawling through Omega auction sites and even if you’re selling there’s a fee. Plus the background checks make things more complicated; people always want the correct paperwork. I don’t really know why they’d want a record of Castiel’s fights.”

Benny regarded him, “Buyers wouldn’t want a record of his fights Dean, they would most likely want his record of ownership.”

“Oh.”

Benny laughed at Dean’s naiveté. “Damn those people that want to make sure the Omega’s they’re buying are actually decent.”

Dean scowled at him, encouraging Benny to continue “Dean, any Omega that isn’t pedigree is going to be a hassle, buying or selling.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t realise that the Omega Black Market had so many rules and regulations. It’s practically the same as buying a Pedigree dog!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean, it’s almost like people don’t want to be stuck with defective Pets, illegal or not.”

“Mine sure is defective.” Dean huffed as he collapsed on the sofa beside Benny.

Benny smacked Dean around the back of his head, “What you call a defective Pet, I call an irresponsible owner.”

Dean was genuinely shocked by the comment, mouth falling open as he stared back at Benny. And his friend even had the audacity to not look guilty about his offence.

Laughing at Dean’s expression, Benny trailed on, “What? C’mon Dean, from the beginning you were showing signs of not being a capable owner. I just thought that you’d figure it out along the way, I just didn’t expect you to give up.” Benny knew that he was poking the bear, but given the situation, he found no real harm. It was about time he told Dean the clear cut truth that he had been holding in since Dean first bought the dog.

“I didn’t give up, I tried everything. That dog out there just doesn’t listen, it’s infuriating! How am I meant to control a dog that doesn’t do anything I say?” Dean’s initial annoyance was starting to morph into anger, and Benny’s casual insults were not helping.

“You’re obviously not doing the right training! How is it that we both bought dogs from the same place and mine are as good as gold? No matter the background, the dog is never at fault for its behaviour.”

Dean stood breathing heavily out of his nose as he gritted his teeth in frustration. “You think you’re so great with dogs, why don’t we go and see how you handle Castiel now then?”

Benny flapped his hands up, growing impatient with his friend. When Dean had invited him over, he was hoping to sway the possibility of getting laid, he hadn’t wanted to spend the day bickering and proving how he could handle Pets.

“What’s wrong? Don’t feel up to it?”

Benny growled at that but refused to play into Dean’s game. 

“Come on Benny, you may potentially have him as a Pet anyway, treat this as a test run.”

Dean knew he had enticed Benny the moment the man’s shoulders dropped the tension it was holding. Benny looked up to consider Dean’s idea. It made sense, and would give Benny more of an idea of what the Omega was like in training scenarios.

“Fine then, since you’re so desperate to see me train, we’re doing it my way. I need the choke collar.”

Dean pulled a face and waved Benny in the direction of the kitchen, the duffel bag of ominous items still packed away inside.

Walking down to the Barn, Benny could sense the nervous energy in Dean; he had never seen his friend so uptight before. Once they entered the Barn and approached the Pen, Benny could understand why. The Omega looked awful, ill even. He was terribly pale and clammy, and his porcelain skin was covered in an assortment of cuts and bruises. Unable to hide his shock, Benny whispered, “Jesus Dean, what happened to him?”

Dean shifted on his feet, “what do you mean?” Benny was right to be shocked, Castiel looked so much worse than when he left him earlier that morning.

“Looks like you’ve been using the dog as a punching bag. What’s up with his hand?”

“The cuffs were hurting him so I took them off.”

Benny sighed, “So you have no problem inflicting pain, but your draw the line at painful handcuffs?” That caused Dean to hold his tongue. He didn’t want to go into any detail of that morning so kept it vague.

“Yeah, he was gesturing that they hurt so thought it may help with his behaviour, turns out it did not.”

Benny started to grumble about Dean’s lack of discipline, shaking his head as he approached the Omega to remove his collar. Surprisingly, the Omega sat pliantly, flinching slightly but sitting well. Benny was mildly impressed, definitely an improvement to the last time he saw him. Though not wanting to blow air up Dean’s ass, he kept the observation to himself. Tying the choke collar around the Omega’s neck, Benny gave a gentle tug along with the command “up” to get the Omega to stand. The Omega’s body moved with the jostle but he remained seated. Trying again, the Omega persisted. Tightening his grip, Benny snapped his fingers in front of the Omega, waiting for him to look up at him, he used his finger to point up while saying the command. Slowly, the Omega obliged the command, standing on shaky legs while cradling his left hand to his chest. Choosing to ignore the dog’s plight, Benny led the Omega away from the pen by the chain until they were both outside. Once they both joined Dean outside, Benny noticed that the Omega wasn’t reacting at all. Not to his presence and not to Dean’s. He had just shrunk in on himself, eyes cast down as he tripped along behind him.

Standing Castiel in a specific place, Benny looked back over his shoulder to signal Dean to approach. Handing him the chains, Benny hinted that he wanted to see Dean handle the commands first. “As basic training goes, what can he already do?”

Dean was at a loss, “Uh, he, he can sit and stuff.”

Benny wasn’t buying Dean’s uncertainty. “Can he kneel and stay?”

“Uh yeah he can kneel, that’s the one thing he does well.” Dean’s eyes shifted uneasily, embarrassed to admit to Benny that Castiel didn’t, in fact, know any commands. Maybe he was just a terrible trainer and owner; another two things to add to his list.

Benny could see through Dean, but instead of antagonising him; sensing his drop in mood, suggested they start with the basics, regardless if Castiel knew them or not.

“Okay, the five main commands are: Sit, Kneel, Present, Come and Stay. Let’s start off with the Kneel command, as you said that’s his most responsive command.”

Dean nodded as he fingered the chains in his hands. The last thing he needed was to be embarrassed in front of Benny, which he knew was inevitable as the Omega didn’t, in fact, know the command Kneel, but the idea of taking back control with another Alpha beside him seemed like the perfect plan. Castiel’s natural submission for Benny would surely rub off onto him. Standing tall, Dean looked down at Castiel, silently wishing that he would look up, before he lowered his voice to command “Kneel.”

Castiel didn’t move, only wavering slightly on his feet. Dean tried again, “Kneel.” With a similar response to the last, Dean tried lowering his voice, “Kneel.” Castiel just stared down at the ground causing Dean to snap forward to grip Castiel’s jaw harshly, shaking it slightly from the residual anger he was experiencing, “I said kneel!” 

Frustration welling up and threatening to overflow, Dean was already close to losing it, “Why the fuck don’t you listen to me?”

“Dean, instead of asking you need to command.” Benny chimed in.

Narrowing his eyes, Dean snapped back “If it’s so easy why don’t you give it a go?”

Benny exhaled noisily “It isn’t a competition Dean.”

Regardless Dean rattled the chains in front of him, suggesting he take them. Benny approached and took the chains from Dean, shaking his head. Turning to face the Omega, Benny looked down at him sternly. “Kneel.”

No response, nothing, Dean smirked.

“Kneel” This time Benny wrapped the chain three times around his palm and pulled. Watching as Castiel scrabbled at his neck, gasping for air. After a few seconds, the Omega finally dropped to his knees. “Good boy!” Benny praised and ruffled Castiel’s hair, loosening his grip on the chains, watching as the pet keeled over with both hands on the ground, panting heavily.

“See Dean, just a bit of tough love does the trick, he will eventually listen.” Grabbing Castiel from under his forearms to haul him up with a growl of “Stay”, Benny handed the chains over to Dean, stepping back to watch his friend’s attempts at basic commands. Dean glanced back at Benny before meeting Castiel’s wary eyes. He could see the Omega was trembling.

“Kneel”

No reaction, again nothing, just wide eyes staring down at the floor. Harsher Dean barked his order “Kneel” and once again getting no response. God Benny made it look so easy, what was he doing that Dean wasn’t?

“Dean, remember you have a choke collar, use it.”

That was right, after Castiel’s initial disobedience, Benny had reined him in by tugging the chain. Gripping the solid, entwined links of metal, he tugged lightly to begin with, watching as he slowly choked out his pet.

“Kneel” another hard pull, “Kneel” and then another. Still, his pet refused to obey. Dean took a step towards the Omega as he continued to wind the chain around his hand as he got closer and closer. Towering over Castiel, Dean could see Castiel's crimson skin and the broken vessels in his reddened eyes. Distantly he heard Benny warn him to stop. Anger consuming him, Dean continued to pull, enjoying seeing the metal prongs piercing Castiel’s neck.

“Dean stop!”

Gritting his teeth, lips pulled into a menacing sneer, Dean pulled even tighter.

“Dean that’s enough!”

Benny gripped Dean’s wrist like a vice, an action which penetrated Dean’s senses. Absently he loosened his grip on the chain, watching as Benny snatched them from him and knelt beside Castiel’s side, removing the collar. Looking down at the scene before him, Dean wondered how many moments ago had the Omega lost consciousness.

Checking Castiel over, Benny was satisfied to hear his shallow breaths and found that the injuries to his neck were not too severe. Standing to his full height, he rounded on Dean, “Jesus Christ Dean, I said tough love, not kill him!”

“What? I did exactly what you said! He just wouldn’t listen to me!”

Benny’s eyes darkened. “Training doesn’t happen overnight Dean! You need more patience brother, I’m surprised you didn’t crush his windpipe.”

“I didn’t intend to go that far, I just, I don’t know he just angers me. Why the fuck doesn’t he follow my orders? I don’t understand it.”

“Leave him for now, just let him rest. I don’t think I need to see any more of his lack of training, I’ve seen enough."

Dean traipsed back up to his house but instead of going inside, he opted to sit on his porch. It was a beautiful day, and the afternoon sun was a pleasant feeling on his face. Sitting back, he watched as Benny picked Castiel up to put him back inside the Barn, securely in his Pen. 

That empty feeling was back, that indifference that held him firmly in its grasp. Choking out Castiel was something he had enjoyed in the moment, with rage pumping through his veins. But now, now he was slightly ashamed. What the hell had come over him?

Deep in thought, Dean was oblivious to Benny returning, only being brought out of his mind until Benny slapped a hand on his thigh. Dean was waiting for the verbal attack, but none came. Risking a glance over to Benny showed his friend holding his head up towards the sun, eyes closed and obviously enjoying the feeling of warmth. After a few slow moments, Benny, without opening his eyes, spoke: “I get that your frustrated Dean.”

Dean sat silently waiting for the follow-up. When none came, he sighed deeply and sat back against the bench, “I don’t know what to tell you Benny, the dog just riles me up. This whole not listening thing, it doesn’t make sense to me. He obeyed your command but not mine, why was that?”

After all the teasing, Dean was now genuinely asking why Benny was able to do the exact thing he wanted. Part of him felt pretty gutted, and a little jealous.

“I’m no animal behaviourist Dean, I couldn’t possibly tell you why the Omega behaves the way he does, why he doesn’t listen to you. It could be because of a number of reasons, or something that’s completely obvious, but whatever it is I don’t know.” Benny finally turned away from the warmth of the sun to face Dean, “But what I do know is that this ownership is not a good one and something I don’t think you should carry on with. That dog needs to have a firmer hand, preferably with someone that knows what they’re doing – ah!” Benny raised a hand to cut Dean’s interruption off – “I’m not trying to upset or insult you, I’m just saying that maybe that Omega just wasn’t the best Pet for you to start out with. I mean, c’mon Dean, this is your first experience being an Omega owner, and you quite possibly have the hardest case to start out with as a beginner.”

With Benny’s words sitting heavy on his shoulders, Dean sighed. Benny was right, he knew that much. He just wanted to make this work. Why, of all the goddamn Omega’s out there, did he have to buy the most defective, most useless, most disobedient one? Benny, sensing Dean’s flagging emotions, started to stroke his thigh in an attempt of comfort, before wrapping his arm around Dean’s shoulder and bringing Dean in for a half hug, happy to squish him against his side until Dean let out a small laugh.

“C’mon Cher, let us call it a day, take ourselves inside and enjoy a beer or something, huh? You fancy having a beer with me?”

Dean was initially unenthusiastic in his refusal, which gave Benny enough room to convince him. As Benny pushed Dean towards the kitchen, Dean, still slightly nauseous from his freight train of alcohol the night before, didn’t feel too comfortable at the prospect of drinking anything, even just beer. 

“Come on Benny, stop plying me with this stuff, you know how easy I succumb to it.”

Benny scoffed, “Dean please, if you can’t control yourself after one Beer then you’re a lot weaker than I originally thought.”

Dipping his eyes, Dean forced a laugh, “Yeah, uh, you’re right. Just one then.”

“Atta boy, see Dean, this is actually helping you! Teaching you self-control.”

“Yeah whatever Benny, let’s just get this drink over with.”

Benny motioned to the sofa as he brought over four beers, and handing Dean two of them, all the while ignoring the questioning look he was given. Regardless of his hesitation, Dean leaned over to pick one up, prep already done by Benny, and took a long swig. 

Both men sat in comfortable silence, swigging their beers with half their attention on the procedural cop show playing on the television. The show soon turned into background noise once Benny spoke up.

“So, what you gonna do with him then?”

“I don’t know man” Dean considered his answer, hand sweeping through his hair. “If I can’t sell him, what if I just dropped him off somewhere? I mean it’s no skin off my back and he was hardly a dent in my wallet. If I just left him somewhere, my problem practically solves itself.”

“Guess you could do that.” Benny took a long final swig of his beer before moving on to his second. Keeping his eyes fixed on his drink, he continued, “Though, his papers are linked to you, meaning, you can dump him somewhere all you want but there’s always a chance he’ll make his way back to you.”

Dean face scrunched up, eyes snapping to Benny as he tried to grasp what his friend meant.

“Crowley runs an illegal Omega business, but the ownership paperwork is all completely legit. You are his owner Dean, yes he was an illegal buy but you are registered as his owner.”

“What? No? I mean yeah I got Castiel’s paperwork but how does swapping paperwork officially connect him to me?”

“Because when you bought your Omega, you were automatically put into the system.” Sensing Dean was completely lost, Benny rolled his eyes and continued. “You didn’t know Crowley uses a dark web site to alter the timelines of the ownership of Omegas? That’s how he keeps his business underground. He wouldn’t be able to have hundreds of Omegas running through his system without there being receipts of some kind to cover up their release. A lot of the fight dogs are abandoned or bought by the establishment, but more than most of those fight dogs are taken. Crowley’s system means that the Omega’s trail is only detected before and after his business. Fight dogs are also known as ghost dogs because they have no ‘live’ records. However, once they have been sold, they pop up again, almost like they never disappeared in the first place. It would raise too much suspicion if all the Omega dogs that went through Crowley’s facility were never seen again. I know they’re only dogs but dog-fighting is still illegal and if somebody noticed all those dogs disappearing, if would no sooner lead back to Crowley, putting him out of business.”

“B-but, but that doesn’t make any sense! Surely Crowley wouldn’t want to keep records of the dogs he owns, because that’s proof of his business. And the Omega’s that get sold off? That would mean there are all these Omega’s just popping up out of nowhere. All of a sudden just walking around again, like they hadn’t been underground for years, surely that is something that people would notice!” Trying to comprehend Benny’s explanation, Dean thought his brain was about to implode. The whole thing still didn’t make sense. “But-“

“Dean, it’s true, and honestly, it makes sense. See, Crowley keeps all of the Omega’s in his possession on his books, because he makes money off of them. If he didn’t, he would have no estimate of how much money he makes on fights and auctions per day, per week, per month, per year and from each individual fight dog. To keep on top of that, everything is recorded. But to save his back he never keeps the fight dogs for more than a couple of years, which is why he uses a dark web system to knit together a timeline of the Omegas before and after their time at the Fighting Facility. That way, Crowley gets his fight dogs and has his records of payments and winnings. Each Omega that gets brought in, and then ultimately sold, has a clean record of ownership. No evidence of the disappearance, no evidence of the fights, nothing sketchy to see and no questionable plot holes, nothing to point anyone in the direction of Crowley or his business.” Benny paused to let Dean absorb what he was telling him, although looking at the man’s paling face, he wasn’t certain if he was retaining any of it, or about to pass out. “When you bought Castiel, you were tied on in the system as his official owner. It wasn’t really for your benefit, but mainly to cover Crowley’s behind.”

The information Benny had lain out for him was like a deck of tarot cards predicting his fate, and Dean was in firm denial. Shaking his head, as though that would erase the truth, Dean sputtered, “But the paperwork I got was just his fight records, information about Castiel, and how long he’d been at the facility. There was nothing about me on there, nothing about me being his official owner.” 

“Crowley didn’t give you his official paperwork then.”

Dean threw his arms up in despair, finding that the anguish of the situation was setting his teeth on edge.

“But if I’m his official owner, what does that mean?”

Benny frowned at Dean, trying to remain as patient as possible during his friend's meltdown. “It means exactly that Dean, you are his official owner, you are his responsibility. If you were to abandon that dog, and if it were found, the first thing that would happen would be checking the Omega chip, and your name would show as owner. Most likely if you abandoned him, and he was found, he would be returned to you.”

Dean’s mouth was agape. He truly didn’t realise the extent of commitment he had signed up to when deciding he wanted a Pet. Having no idea his name would legally be attached as the Owner, where he would have to accept all responsibility.

“It’s quite difficult to sell a second-hand Omega legitimately, since swapping papers can be quite difficult, which is why most people go underground or sell their Omega’s on while keeping the Omega in their name. For instance, if I took your dog to a vet to be put down, you would be called since you are the owner, not me. Or if you gave your Pet away, an agreed sale or not, if your dog caused damage or injury to another Omega or person, you would be responsible as the legal owner.”

“Damn, Benny, what am I going to do? I didn’t realise how cemented this ownership was going to be. I was hoping I could just drop him off somewhere or just leave him behind. I had no idea he could be traced back to me.”

“Dean, calm down, it’s okay. Being a legal owner isn’t a death sentence, so I don’t know why you’re behaving like it is!”

Finally, Dean’s denial and anguish had transformed into anger. An emotion that flowed through him more fluidly, allowing him to truly vent what he was feeling and thinking.

“Benny, I’ve just found out that the stupid, worthless Omega dog I bought is legally attached to me! What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I don’t want to be the official owner! I thought that I was just buying some used up fight dog that would help me with my ruts, he was supposed to be disposable.” Even in his anger, Dean knew that not to be true. Castiel was not bought to be a disposable item, he was bought to provide Dean company. It was just that the entire situation had not planned out at all like what Dean had so desperately wanted.

“Christ Dean, that dog out there still is disposable. I don’t understand why you’re reacting this way, you’re not the only guy this has happened to, and it’s not like it’s some fatal mistake. I’m also the legal owner of both my dogs, it’s how the system works. It's how Omega’s can be moved around illegally without raising suspicion.”

“I just guess I hate the fact that the Omega I have is the one I now don’t want. Goddammit, and if selling him is going to be too much of a strain, what can I do? Put him down? But that itself comes at a price." In his frustration and feeling angsty, Dean stood up, and needing to move continued pacing around the room, "Son of a bitch! Why are Omega’s so god damn hard to get rid of? They're just dogs right? So why are there many rules and regulations, when did society start giving a damn about these stupid fucking dogs?”

Icy blue eyes observed Dean as he gently sipped from his beer bottle. Benny, while sitting comfortably on the sofa, had much to consider, but being a witness to Dean’s meltdown, he couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and help his friend. Tipping back the remains of his beer, Benny belched before he stood to approach Dean.

White knuckles from clenching his fist too hard, and gritted teeth from the effort to remain calm, Dean’s hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid - burning, slicing and potent. Dean was upset, his face red with suppressed rage, and when Benny set a hand on his shoulder, he swung around and was ready to physically snap. But before any violence could ensue, Benny verbally disarmed him.

“Alright Dean, I’ll take him.”


	11. Silent Noon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay in updating, I had to do a double-take when I saw the last chapter was posted in March?! Unfortunately during the lockdown, I didn't have access to my laptop, and admittedly when I did finally get it I considered abandoning the story because it'd been so long. However I've still been getting kudos and comments so that's what really pushed me to continue, so thank you for everyone that did comment! I ended up writing way more than planned so there are two new chapters!
> 
> Again I'm sorry for the delay, and know that this fic has not been abandoned and will be continued!

Dean was nervous, so nervous he actually reached past the bottle of Whiskey to grab at his packet of cigarettes. Marlboro. He only kept them for real emergencies of stress, and as his stress levels would indicate, it was an emergency. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. So unsettled. Something about this arrangement was wholly wrong, he just couldn’t point out what it was, even if it was standing in a line-up.

Benny had text no more than twenty minutes ago that he was on his way, so that gave Dean another ten minutes to fret and pace around. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Dean tried to navigate his mind, however repeatedly coming to dead ends.

Dean had checked in on his Omega not two hours ago, and the dog had been sound asleep. Dean now preferred it when the omega was asleep during their encounters, which made it easier on his part. Easier to place the bowls of feed and water down before hauling himself out of there before the dog even knew he’d been there.

Finding the air in his home to be suffocating, Dean moved his pacing outside onto the porch, before moving once again to an open space in his field. Even with the fresh air, Dean felt funny. This strangeness in his mind was not unfamiliar but still unwelcome. Dean could never really work out how he was really feeling, having repressed every real emotion he’d ever experienced; years of practice. This was why it was so much easier to numb himself with drink and to mould a stony, prickly exterior for himself. The exterior was for his protection, and the numbness encouraged his denial. Denial was his key to survival, and when in doubt, Dean denied it. Which is how he pulled himself together by the time Benny’s truck trundled down the track leading towards his house. Dean allowed the numbness to swallow him whole, to remove any doubts from his mind, and to blanket him with indifference and apathy.

Dean stood for a moment, temporarily losing the connection to his surroundings though vaguely aware Benny was approaching.  
Benny wandered over to where Dean was standing, his little Omega pet trailing behind him, eyes focused on his Master. Dean turned towards the movement, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sweet-looking puppy sitting at Benny’s feet.

“Ain’t he cute?” Benny beamed at Dean before reaching down to ruffle his Pet’s hair. “Gadreel here is my best behaved, so obedient.”

The blonde-haired Omega was pretty, blue eyes gazing up and Benny adoringly, purring slightly at the attention from his Master.

“Sure is!” Dean’s voice had a tinge of jealousy to it, but even he couldn’t deny Benny’s Pet was cute. Dean’s face fell back into its stony expression, eyes losing their light. Dean felt like a zombie whenever he acted like this.

“What’s the matter with you? You don’t seem as excited about this as I thought you would be.” Benny scrutinized him, though the worry was evident behind his words.

“Just don’t really feel myself is all, otherwise, I’m fine.”

Happy with the answer, Benny began to encourage his pet to show off a little to Dean, ticking Gadreel behind the ears and under the chin to show how proud he was.

“He sure is a sweet little thing isn’t he?”

“He’s perfect Dean. So well behaved, so obedient, and he has such a gentle temperament. That’s why I chose him to meet Castiel first. We’re testing the waters here so to speak, and Gadreel here is the best dog for just that. He’s the most submissive out of my three as well so shouldn’t be too rough with him either.”

“Well, I don’t think this meet and greet can go any better! Shall I bring him out then?”

“Sure, remember to bring him out slowly and on his lead, it would be better for Gadreel to discover the scent of your Omega on his own, without being rushed.”

Dean spun round to retrieve Castiel, his auto-pilot engaged as he followed the well-trodden path towards the Barn to collect the omega. Intending to lead him out to a tree, tie him to it, then allow Gadreel to make his own way to him, as Benny had suggested. Apparently allowing Gadreel to approach Castiel in his own time, with Castiel being as less as a threat as possible, would make for the best of introductions. Benny occupied himself by standing in front of Gadreel and commanded his attention, not wanting him to see Dean bring the dog out.

Entering the pen, the omega was awake though lying on his side, fingers scratching idly on the flooring next to him. As Dean approached, blue eyes darted up towards him before the omega retracted his hand to curl inwards, eyes dropping to the floor.

Dean managed to leash Castiel with no problems, as the Omega went pliant, although slightly rigid. Wide eyes staring up at him as Dean spoke, “Come on Omega, time to meet your new friend.” Dean led Castiel out slowly, making sure Gadreel was suitably distracted before pulling Castiel out of the Barn’s doorway and across the field to a small tree. Tying him securely, Dean made his way back to Benny and his pet. Gadreel was off lead, and the plan was for him to first get sight of Castiel from a distance, away from either owner. The intention was for Gadreel’s curiosity to allow him to approach the younger pup, scent him, and hopefully accept him. Over the next three days, Dean and Benny had planned to bring over his dogs one by one, then once they all accepted Castiel, bring them over all at once, hoping to re-establish the pack dynamic. 

Once by Benny’s side, Dean noticed the laser focus Gadreel had for Benny, so much so it was more of a challenge to get him to look away from him. Even having stepped to the side and out of the line of view between Gadreel and Castiel, Gadreel still only had eyes for his Master.

“Puppy look! Over there!” Benny pointed towards some trees nearby, hoping it would be enough to entice his Pet to explore.

Gadreel’s eyes would shift quickly before pinning onto Benny again.

“Pup, go sniff!” Benny flagged out his arm in a swooping motion across the field, which was something Gadreel picked up on. Obeying the command, the Omega set off around Benny to explore the area. First, a patch of grass held his attention, before he continued around looking at different flowers and following the flight path of a butterfly. Dean and Benny watched on, smiles on their faces. It was sweet to see the freedom Benny allowed his pet, and the obedience he gave in return.

As Benny spoke praise about his pet, Dean looked over at Castiel, who looked downright terrified, paling as he started to tremble. Something was clearly wrong, but Dean did nothing but wonder what it could be. A flash of annoyance passed when he realised Castiel may mess up the introduction, but his general submissiveness was a positive factor. He was scared but at least he was behaving. Castiel seemed to be frozen, eyes unblinking and unmoving from Gadreel. Why was he so frightened?

As Gadreel got closer and closer, he seemed to finally pick up on another Omega’s scent. This is it, this is their first meeting. Gadreel paused in his explorations, raising his head to look directly at Castiel, face unreadable. 

“Go on pup.” Benny encouraged from a distance.

For a moment everything was still, both Omegas quiet and there stares unwavering. Until in a snap, Gadreel’s eyes dissolved into a fiery red as he pulled his mouth into a tight snarl. The deep rumble of a growl echoing past his lips let those around him know exactly how he felt. Teeth that gently and playfully nipped at Benny just moments before were bared in aggression, a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Turning feral and in a mode of a savage attack, Gadreel descended onto Castiel.

Not at all expecting that reaction, both men could only watch as Gadreel launched himself at Castiel in a ferocious display of violence as he pinned the smaller Omega down to clamp onto the meat of his shoulder. Castiel shrieked, howling loudly in pain. Gadreel’s mouth continued to twist as he clawed at Castiel, eyes blown red with anger, only to clamp down once again onto Castiel’s arm.

“Jesus Christ!” After the initial hesitation of shock, Benny moved quickly, running the distance between them and grabbing Gadreel’s collar to pull his Pet off of Castiel, shouting the commands, “Stop!” and “Off!”, but the Omega didn’t let up. Benny resulted in having to strike his pet across the back of the head to slacken his jaw, before grabbing Gadreel roughly by the jaw and collar, physically dragging him away from Castiel. Even away from the other omega, Benny’s Pet was feral, clawing at Benny to get back at Castiel. Gadreel had completely lost his mind. Away from the sweet, adoring eyes, away from the obedience, and in its place just pure wild, feral instincts.

Dean could only stand there in astonishment, the scene that had just unfolded too surreal to even process. What the fuck just happened? Gadreel had just snapped, and looking over to where Benny was forcefully dragging his Pet towards the truck, Dean could see Gadreel was not calming down. Once Benny had locked Gadreel in the cage on the bed of the truck, Benny returned, shaken.

After a moment of laboured breathing Dean spoke first, “What the fuck was that?”

“Jesus if I knew! Dean, I have never seen Gadreel snap like that before, never!”

Looking over towards Benny’s truck, both men could see the cage-rattling from Gadreel’s attempts to escape.

“Benny, I think Gadreel would have killed Castiel if you hadn’t stepped in to stop him.”

Benny continued to stare at the rattling cage, “Never has he disobeyed me before Dean, never. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m more shocked about, his reaction to Castiel, or his disobedience.”

“He was feral, I don’t think any command would have stopped him.”

“You know what this means right?”

“Yeah.”

A drawn-out whine had both men looking down at the forgotten Omega lying at their feet, causing Benny to run off towards the direction of the house while Dean watched Castiel trembling and moaning on the grass. He idly wondered if he should comfort the Omega before Benny was running back, holding an assortment of towels and bandages.

“I had to raid your cupboards, but here take these.”

Dean automatically took what he was offered and stood by as he watched Benny applying pressure to the wound of Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel cringed away from Benny’s touch, though Benny was insistent, murmuring soft words to the injured Omega. Dean wasn’t unfamiliar with this side of Benny, but it was slightly jarring to see those attentions on Castiel. Benny was no doubt a very caring owner to his own Pets.

The wound on the omega’s shoulder wasn’t deep, and it wasn’t fatal, but it would most likely scar. It was somewhat fortunate Gadreel had only clamped on, and not torn through the skin. Looking at the bite on the omega's arm, it was a shallow one, and Benny was convinced it would heal. Once Benny was satisfied the bleeding stopped, he tossed the towel to the side to apply the bandages. Tightly wrapped, Benny considered his work before deciding it was good enough.

“I think he’s in shock.” Benny was one to state the obvious.

“What should I do with him?”

“Just leave him to calm down, once I get Gadreel out of here, once his scent has cleared he should be fine.” 

“Benny I can’t keep him though!”

“I for sure ain’t taking him!”

“Benny you’ve gotta help me out!”

“Dean! Did you not just see what happened? Gadreel for whatever reason just attacked Castiel completely unprovoked! I know your Omega is a disobedient little shit, but I’m not going to sit and watch him get torn apart in my own home.”

“Your other dogs may be fine with him.” Dean knew he was grasping at non-existent straws. If Gadreel was the most submissive of the pack, it was wild to even suggest for Benny to bring along his other Pets.

“For Christ’s sake, I’m not ruining their pack dynamic for your stupid dog. Dean, we’ve already been through this. You're registered as his owner. Your problem, you deal with it.”

Benny swivelled on his feet and made haste back to his truck. Gadreel, who had settled somewhat, was still snarling. To combat that, Benny threw an old rug over the cage, blanketing the view and light. With a quick wave, Benny was inside his truck and pulling away. Dean couldn’t blame him, as he himself was still reeling from the shock of what had just happened.

Looking down, Castiel had made his way to Dean’s feet, curled up with his hands over his head and forehead resting on Dean’s shoe. No doubt seeking some sort of comfort. Sighing, Dean bent down to stroke the Omega’s hair, not anticipating for the Omega to flinch and bite down on his ankle.

“Son of a bitch!”

A swift kick had Castiel sprawled across the grass, looking up at Dean with equal terror and shock.

“You’re fine with Benny’s hands all over you? Aren’t you?!”

Castiel just stared up at him, lip trembling and facial features flinching involuntarily as Dean grabbed his arm to haul him back towards the Barn, swiftly throwing him back into his pen with a dull thud. Dean ignored the pained cry.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. A dissociative fog had descended around Dean’s brain as he sat on his sofa. Dean simply wasn’t there. His mind was scrambled and he’d given up any attempts to rectify it, it was all too confusing, though had caused an unsolicited panic.

It was way past midnight and Benny had still not responded to any of his messages or missed calls, and now Dean was antsy. His mind chaotic with the events from earlier, and now, with a desperate need for some form of contact, he wondered what he could do or where he could go. It was times like this he would reach for the bottle. Hand tremors back in full force, Dean paced back and forth while wringing his hands. It was times like this he wished he could just claw himself out of his own body. 

Attempting to distract himself, Dean turned on the TV to sit and watch re-runs of Dr. Sexy MD. When that failed he smoked another cigarette. When that failed to calm and distract his nerves, Dean began to pace around again. Should he see his omega? Should he make sure he’s okay? Dean was torn, the inner conflict of comfort and volatile anger tearing him apart. Pacing around, Dean was suddenly hyper-aware of how empty his house was, how empty his life was. As if on instinct, Dean walked over to the mantelpiece to pick up a heavy frame. The picture that sat snug and safe inside was a picture of Dean and Sam as kids. Bright eyes and smiles as big as their faces, they were happy; and more importantly, they were together.

Going through his contacts was a quick activity, having only a mere six names on the list. Flicking his thumb idly over the different names; Dean’s eye was continually drawn to Sam’s. Dean wanted to hear his voice, though that was hard to admit to himself. Mainly because there were two sides to him. One wanted to reach out for help and wanted to reach out for forgiveness. The other, a more twisted side of him, wanted to keep himself in the dark, keep him isolated and away from loved ones and comfort. The inner conflict was at times overwhelming which inevitably would lead Dean to drink himself into oblivion. 

Mind all over the place, Dean felt very disconnected from his surroundings. He was aware the Omega was out in the Barn yet it was only a vague awareness. It didn’t even feel real. Today didn’t feel real. Dean knew he was spiralling but accepted he wouldn’t be able to do anything but spiral. However, with one last shred of positive light in his mind, he picked up his phone and prepared to call his brother. The nerves of speaking on the phone were established, and Dean rehearsed the first lines of the call while wondering if he should write down some prompts to be guided by. Building up the courage to press call, his heart raced as he listened to the line simply ring out. So Dean tried again, though only to have someone answer who wasn’t his brother. “Sam’s phone, Ruby speaking.”

Dean hung up immediately, not wanting to talk to some strange woman while on the brink of collapse. The feminine voice had completely thrown him off, all coherent rehearsed lines falling out of his brain and mixing together in a jumbled mess on his tongue. But Ruby? She seemed so familiar and comfortable with Sam, and who was she to be answering Sam’s phone at… a quick glance at his watch showed the time to be after 1am… 1am?!

Unsure if he should interrupt Sam’s evening with a new woman, he took Ruby answering as a sign that Sam would also be up, and if Ruby had answered, they were surely not in the middle of anything depraved or debauched. So he called once more, phone shaking slightly in his hand. The sound of the call ringing out dismissed any thoughts as he powered through on auto-pilot, hand repeatedly pressing the call button until he heard the call connect.

“Yeah?”

The voice was abrupt and rude, but male.

“Sam?”

“Speaking.”

“Uh, hi, uh, I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

Dean fumbled, “Oh, so, uh, Ruby? That’s new? I didn’t realise you and Jess broke up.” Dean signed with the realisation, “though there’s no real reason for me to know that.”

Dean wiped his free hand down his face. He’s an idiot, why would Sam tell him, of all people, anything about his personal life willingly.

“No, no, Jess and I are still together. Ruby is a work colleague, my team have gone out for drinks tonight, not that it’s any of your business.”

Dean was suddenly enveloped in a pang of great sadness. With his current mental state, the deserved brash tones and rudeness were threatening tears.

“Why are you calling me Dean?”

Dean took in a deep breath to steady himself, hoping Sam didn’t notice the wobble in his voice, “I, well, I’m not really sure.”

“Dean I should better head back in, so uh, take care.”

“No, no wait!” Dean hated how shrill he sounded but he just needed this. He needed to speak with his brother. “Wait, just before you go, just tell me how things are with you?” Dean internally cringed at himself, he sounded so pathetic and he was certain Sam could see right through it.

“Uh, well.” Dean could practically hear how bored Sam was on the other line over his attempts of keeping the conversation going. “Things are good, work’s going well, Jess is well, yeah everything’s good.”

Dean smiled inwardly, pleased to hear it. Though was put off when Sam asked the same question back. Dean always hated small talk, and he hated having to update people about his own life no matter how much he wanted to hear about other people’s. Was there a faster way to tell people he was a lonely alcoholic with serious mental health issues? The online dating profile practically writes itself.

“Things are okay, I’m still at the Ranch, though did get a bit lonely so ended up buying an omega dog. He’s been a bit of a handful so that’s taken up a lot of my time. I think once I find a way to get rid of him, I’ll have more time to start focusing on the work that needs to be done around here.”

“An omega? Did you buy an omega?

“Yeah, I bought one a few weeks ago.”

“How did you even get one? Your record?”

Dean was starting to regret running his mouth. Whenever he opened up, whenever he spilled any personal or private information, he would be clouded with embarrassment and humiliation. Knowing later he will scold himself for such a breach of his own privacy.

“Yeah, well I managed to find a way around it.” Dean shook his head. Why did he say it like that? It sounds so obvious he went down an illegal route.

“Dean that doesn’t sound good, and you say he’s a handful? No wonder if you got him illegally.”

“Well yeah, but anyway I’m gonna try and see if I can sell him. He’s too much work for me.”

“Jesus Dean.”

Dean’s anger had been bubbling underneath the conversation completely undetected, but the threat of accusation had it coursing its way up to the forefront, causing Dean to jump on the defence. “What?”

“You always make stupid decisions on a whim for important things and they end up biting back. Did you even do any research into it? This just reeks of your stupidity.” 

Dean’s heart sank. One thing he couldn’t cope with was people outing his stupidity or his behaviour. His mind was unattached to his surroundings at times, and the embarrassment of witnesses was one thing, but to be called out on it too was mortifying. And Dean could only retaliate in the way he knew how to, with hot anger.

“Oh fuck you Sam! You’re always putting me down because you think you’re so smart. I called you because I wanted to talk to you, but I guess this is just another one of my stupid decisions, I forgot what you’re like.”

Dean barely heard Sam grit out “Don’t ever contact me ever again.” The repressed anger wrapped up deep inside of him forging its way out like lava in an explosive volcanic eruption. Blinkered by his own fragility and insecurities, Dean hurled his phone across the room before making his way to his cupboard of alcoholic drinks. He needed to feel the burn, he needed to fill himself up so his insides sloshed with the liquid, he needed to forget the phone call, to forget his vulnerability, and to forget his weaknesses. He needed to forget he was just a loser, some bum who couldn’t even keep it together to have a civil conversation with his estranged brother. Seizing the bottle of Bourbon and clutching at it like a lifeline, Dean began to drown himself, relishing in the accompanying numbness.

Dean sat heavily on the barstool, slumped over the kitchen counter. The alcohol only magnifying his negative, spiralling thoughts as he stewed in self-loathing and hatred. As Dean fell deeper and deeper, the twisted side of him reared its ugly head and regained control; clouding Dean's mind with a dark, sinister presence.

Eyes rolling towards the kitchen clock, Dean slurred out loud the time, 4am. It was already morning, early. And soon he would have to go down to the Barn to place down the Omega feed and water bowls. The stupid omega feed for the stupid omega. Dean’s irritation stirred stronger feelings of anger. Thinking about Castiel, Dean felt a deep resentment, a bitterness that had his hands shaking. Though if it were tremors from the alcohol he couldn’t be sure.

Jesus, he couldn’t cope. Nothing he did worked. He was gentle with the omega and in response got attacked. No matter how he treated him, Castiel continued to ignore his efforts, refusing to speak. Dean kept coming back to the idea if the omega was mute, but occasionally the odd word would slip out of his mouth, which meant Castiel knew exactly what he was saying and still ignored him. Nearly three weeks since he bought his Pet and he hadn’t gotten anywhere with the stupid dog. Nowhere. Dean had idly wondered if he should just put him down himself since returning him wasn’t an option. But a sadistic shift in him meant he suddenly found himself excited about inflicting pain. If this stupid dog wasn’t going to co-operate, he’d make his life hell. It had now become his personal mission to break the Omega. His defiant attitude, his flair for disobedience, and his spirit.

Dean stumbled as he rose from his seat, knocking the stool backward as he went. Gripping the counter to stabilize himself, he then moved towards the bag of omega feed and spilled as much as he could into the bowl. Forgetting the water, Dean staggered onto the porch and down the steps. The haze of Whiskey encouraging his self-deprecating thoughts and winding his anger up into a tight coil, ready to spring at any slight trigger.

Clumisly making his way into the Barn, Dean walked with an unsteady gait towards the Pen. “Dog, I’ve had enough of you.” Dean garbled slightly, banging his hand against the now half-empty bowl of feed. “Hey, hey dog!” Dean nudged Castiel with his foot, pleased to see the omega stirring awake before scurrying backward towards the wall.

“Listen here Omega. I am the Alpha, I am your Alpha. And as your Alpha, I enforce the rules. No more disobedience, I am sick of your behaviour!” While Dean rambled on, he started throwing bits of kibble at Castiel, laughing whenever he hit his face or on the head.

The omegas attempts at dodging the kibble pellets were futile, as he was too tired and weak to move quickly; though he raised a hand over his head.

Dean held up a piece of kibble. “From now on, food will only be given on account of good behaviour. You listen to me, you get fed, you disobey, you don’t get fed. Easy right?”

Dean stared down at the Omega, eyes squinting slightly to refocus them. Getting impatient, Dean threw some more kibble at his Pet. “Well? Do you understand the game or not omega?”

Dean was once again met with disobedience, the omega choosing to stare at his feet than acknowledge him.

“You little brat, look at me!”

Dean picked up a bigger handful and chucked it at Castiel’s face, hitting him square on. The omega spluttered and raised his hands, eyes teary. “Stup, stup”

“You can’t even talk properly can you? Jesus, how stupid are you? Is that the problem? Huh? Is that why you’re so useless you can’t understand me?”

Dean stood in the mouth of the pen, barking orders at the hopeless Omega, who just sat staring at him with wide eyes. Until again he raised his hand to his mouth, tapping it.

“You are not eating now, what have I said? You get food after you listen and do as I say.”

Again Castiel raised his hand to his mouth, eyes darting back and forth from Dean and the bowl of food he held.

“Listen to me! You don’t get to eat until you behave. What are you not understanding?”

With a whimper as his only response, Dean cruelly tipped the contents of food onto the floor. Kicking kibble in different directions.

The Omega held a thumbs-up gesture in the palm of his right hand, causing Dean’s frustration to skyrocket.

“How was that a good thing?! You made me waste food!”

Again, Castiel tried to communicate by holding a thumbs-up gesture, smacking his right palm against it more desperately.

“No! How many times do we have to go over this? No food until you’re good and follow my commands. No thumbs up, you’re being bad!”

Dean punctuated each word with a backhanded slap, “Bad Omega! Bad dog!”

The Omega repeated his action, even as he curled in on himself, eyes avoiding Dean’s though desperate in trying to communicate with the enraged Alpha before him.

Bewildered, Dean lost it, “Why are you still giving me a thumbs up? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dean’s eyes flashed with rage and Castiel cowered before him, thin arms going to protect his head.

Dean roughly handled the Omega and yanked both arms, pulling him up to stand, and keeping them above his head, attaching the cuffs to the pen's fencing. Grabbing a fistful of hair, Dean brought his face close to his Pets and lowered his voice, speaking slowly and dangerously. “Stupid Omega bitch, if you want to act up I’ll give you something you won’t think is a thumbs up.”

With that Dean stepped back, left foot kicking away stray bits of kibble from the bottom of his foot. Reaching to lift the whip from the hook on the wall, he missed the horrified expression on the omega's face. Flicking his right wrist a few times, he bounced lightly on his feet, getting a feel for the whip. From where he stood he could see the Omega trembling, wrists tugging at the binds desperately.

No wonder the dog was so cheap, the Omega was thick. Didn’t understand most of what Dean wanted. Though at times he was convinced the bastard was just stubborn, waiting for his moment to strike. Pretending to be weak so Dean would let his guard down, just like those fight dogs at the auction. Dean was savvy, he wasn’t going to be tricked.

Steadying his hand, Dean inhaled deeply before lunging forward and cracking the whip with as all the strength he could muster behind it. On contact, Castiel screamed, arching his back to get away from the pain.

Again Dean cracked the whip. And again it made contact. And again Castiel screamed.

Dean’s body worked on autopilot as his mind was engulfed with anger towards his dog and his own stupidity. Mind-wandering, his body continued through the motions of striking the Omega’s back.

Snapping back at a particularly harsh crack against broken skin, Dean realised he had whipped the Omega until his back was a bloody mess. A map of raised, swollen lines that led the way to broken skin and bruising.

Castiel hung heavily from his chains, arms and shoulder blades straining, limp legs lacking any support. Warily, Dean approached him. He’d seen Omega’s as small as Castiel bleed out during fights, and still have the tenacity and stamina to win. This little show of vulnerability wasn’t working on Dean. Nothing would.

With just a few feet of space between them, Dean gripped the whip tightly as he crouched down slowly. Eyes never leaving the slack body, he blindly reached out and felt around for the wooden broom he’d left in the pen. Feeling the roughness of the wood, his fingers curled around it, bringing it up in front of him like a sword, as though he would need the protection. Proceeding to gently poke and prod Castiel’s prone body.

No reaction.

Again he poked.

No movement.

Each poke and each prod got harder and harder that even Dean himself couldn’t deny the Omega was not feigning hurt. Grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to face the front, Dean saw that Castiel was in fact unconscious. Though as a precaution, he lightly tapped the side of his face, just to be certain.

Again no reaction.

The Barn had overwhelming silence to it as Dean looked over Castiel, whose face was slack and wet from tears. Uneasy, Dean wondered if maybe he’d gone too far. “No” Dean halted the sympathetic train of thoughg, “this is what he deserved. He knew what would happen if he misbehaved.”

Leaving Castiel to hang painfully from the fencing, twisted at the wrists, Dean threw down the whip and retreated back to the house, exhausted. Mind a blurry, chaotic mess. This didn’t feel real.

Castiel’s arms ached, no matter how he moved them, they were impossibly numb. Someone could cut them off and he wouldn’t feel a thing. He was exhausted; there was no way to sleep standing upright. His eyes would droop before his head would lol forward, but the strain of his neck would reluctantly pull him along the edge of sleep. Perpetually on the tipping point but never falling into the darkness he craved. No food, no water. His numb arms were the least of his problems though were an irritant. Castiel stood on his tiptoes, relieving the pressure on his arms from the metal cuffs. Castiel weakly jerked back, hoping he could break them, but the sting of his back had him crying out. He couldn’t stand the dusty, mute space in the Pen. He couldn’t stand the bone dry feeling in his mouth, how it ached when he tried to swallow. He couldn’t stand the stomach aches, the pangs of hunger. He couldn't stand the pain. A matter of fact, all he could do was stand.

The pain commanded his attention, it did not sit quietly in the background, lassoing his brain into meek submission. Castiel used to think that the intermittent pains were chaotic, random. Now that they are constant, he knows that that is more debilitating. Without a break in the pain, he cannot formulate a thought, can only live in the constant stream of anguish and misery. His broken ribs singing in agony, he tried to raise his head before slumping again, energy drained by the fever that had taken hold, and the infection settling into his wounds on his bloody back. As the waves of nauseous rolled through him, Castiel felt himself being propelled towards his most desired unconsciousness.


	12. Outside In The Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback is in italics.

The club was electric, everyone feeding off of the energy created from the smiles and fast dancing. Sam could go like this all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat like they belonged to the music. The dance floor had disappeared under the masses of people dancing and grinding to the club music. There's no room for any more, though somehow space is made available when Sam uses his body to gently push the crowd away from him to accommodate his joining colleagues. The music is all nineteen nineties but San was dancing like its jive; twisting, turning, holding hands as people changed sides. Everyone was all grins, looking like idiots and not caring. Inside they were all just happy, happy, and more alive than ever. Sam and his team were celebrating the success of their negotiations against a company for Land Use. Sam’s firm had won their battle to preserve a historical site from being developed on. 

Sam hardly ever drank and certainly wasn’t someone to frequent club nights, but the happiness of his co-workers was infectious, something he lapped up, and something that had him following the rest of his colleagues to the most popular club in town. And so as he was steered towards the direction of the bar, Sam found himself going willingly. He deserved to have some fun, he deserved to loosen up and enjoy a few drinks. Standing amongst the pack of people attempting to hail down the attention of the bartenders working ferociously to serve the heavy stream of people, Sam looked over the heads of people to decide on his choice of celebration. Eying the selection of alcohol, the collection was impressive. Though more decorative than practical, Sam admired the set-up, eyes scanning the various bottles of Whiskey. His thoughts flickered to the image of his brother, Dean sitting at that bar, hand continuously reaching out to procure the copious amounts handed to him. Shaking those thoughts off, Sam’s eyes resumed the trail along the lines of alcohol.

Feeling a gentle hand on his arm, Sam turned slightly in the queue, and there, right behind him was Ruby. Ruby worked with Sam, had been his mentor when he first joined the firm; acting as his first port of call if he were to have any problems. Sam and Ruby had really hit it off; she was unlike any girl he had met before. There was a steadiness to her as if all the storms in the world were a whispering breeze if she was there. She was kind and clever; perhaps that's what drew people to her. It was as if she knew she was born to be a queen of the earth, one who helped others, using her brain to fix whatever needed fixing. There was nothing princess about her though, just fierce independence and motherliness too… and she was that way from girlhood, confident with the air of a warrior. He liked her, they all did. “Hey Ruby, can I get you a drink?”

Her eyes spoke of a beautiful soul and her movements told of a need for nurture, something which reeled in the men around her. Smiling up at him, Ruby accepted, “Thank you, Sam, that’s very kind of you.”

“What would you like?”

“JD and coke for me please Sam.”

“Good choice, I think I’ll get the same.”

Noticing that Ruby was lingering, Sam turned to her, “Hey Ruby, don’t worry about waiting with me, you can go and find the others if you want. I think that they were looking to get a booth.”

“That’s fine Sam, besides I think I prefer your company.”

Sam awkwardly smiled back at her, unsure of how to respond. He never knew if Ruby was being serious or if she was just joking. He considered them good friends but on occasion, she would flatter him which would lead to clues of her attraction. Deciding that he was probably reaching for scraps, he turned back to the bar. Moving against the stream of people travelling away from the bar, he managed to swipe a prime spot at the front, before successfully signalling the barkeep. “Two JD and cokes please.”

“Singles or doubles”

Without looking back, Sam replied “Doubles.”

As he waited for the Bartender to mix his order, he felt another touch on his arm and an arm across his back. Looking over his shoulder revealed Ruby cosying up to him. Smiling back at her, Sam turned back and settled the payment of both drinks, before sliding the first glass over to Ruby, upon taking a sip she noted how strong it was.

“Oh yeah, I got doubles, hope that’s okay.”

“Not trying to get me drunk are you Sam?” Ruby smirked, eyes sparkling at she smouldered at him.

“Oh no, not at all Ruby, uh, come on let’s go and find the others.”

Leading her away from the bar, Sam wasn’t able to see her roll her eyes. Joining the rest of his colleagues, Sam pressed himself between two standing colleagues to get access to a seat, not expecting Ruby to hug herself close to him as she sat down next to him, squeezing herself into a gap which one wouldn’t even have considered a space to sit.

Taking a sip of his drink, Sam immediately regretted getting a double. It had been a while since he went out drinking so maybe he should have started off a little bit slower… No! Sam derailed those thoughts. He was fine, he wasn’t regretting getting a drink, and he could handle himself just fine. He wasn’t relying on the alcohol, he wasn’t abusing it, and he wasn’t sitting alone at some bar. He was celebrating and he was out with friends. Gulping back a mouthful of his drink, Sam was adamant he would allow himself to enjoy the rest of the night.

Settling into himself and joining in with the amicable conversations and laughter between his colleagues, a firm grip on his thigh made Sam jump slightly. Looking down, Sam saw Ruby’s hand placed there. Looking over, Ruby seemed to be deep in conversation with another woman sitting next to her, seemingly unaware of Sam’s attention. Shifting in the booth and attempting to slide away, Ruby’s hand tightened. Sam was now fully aware of Ruby’s intentions and looking around the group, no one seemed to notice. The laughter around him turned obnoxious, the attentions from Ruby now annoying and intrusive than the innocent touches they had started off by being.

Deciding to ignore Ruby’s proposition, it wasn’t until the hand gripping his thigh moved closer towards his dick that Sam jumped up and quickly excused himself with the intention of heading back to the bar, ignoring Ruby’s ask for another drink.

Returning with just his drink, a single this time, Sam ignored Ruby’s complaints and settled in once again next to her. Dismayed he was unable to sit somewhere else. 

Alongside his attempts of ignoring Ruby and enjoying the company of his other colleagues, the haze of being drunk settled deeply behind Sam’s eyes. He ignored the teases coming from those around him for being a lightweight when he felt a familiar sensation in his trouser pocket. Before he could try and focus on what the vibration was, it had stopped. Reaching out to take another pull of the drink placed in front of him, the vibration returned. Clumsily reaching towards the sensation, Sam fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Hey doofus, don’t just stare at it, you’re meant to answer.” Ruby reached forward, plucking the phone out of Sam’s hands and answered the call. In a sultry voice she answered, “Sam’s phone, Ruby speaking.”

Looking at Ruby answering his phone, a swell of panic swept through him. What if Jess had called him, what would she think? In his irritation and panic, Sam snatched the phone out of Ruby’s hands, dismayed to see the call had already ended. Shit.

“Who was that? Tell me.”

Ruby laughed at him, “Why? You expecting an important phone call from someone?”

“Ruby quit playing around, I’m serious, who did you speak to?”

“Christ Sam, calm down! There was no one there alright, the line was quiet, and no one spoke.”

Sam hurriedly went to his call log, fingers working clumsily but quickly, before seeing a name which was simultaneously a huge relief but also a huge surprise. ‘Dean’ – (1) missed call.

“Dean?” Looking up at Ruby, “What did he say? What did he want?”

“Hey dummy I already told you, he didn’t say anything, just hung up.”

Ruby was clearly annoyed at his behaviour but Sam couldn’t have cared less. Because right now, Dean calling him was not a good sign. Or maybe it was, but Sam couldn’t help but think this was a bad omen. Why would Dean be calling him other than to spill some terrible news? There wasn’t a friendly, brotherly chat to be had at 1am in the morning. The thought sparked another, more morbid one. What if it wasn’t Dean who was calling? Thinking back to a few nights ago, that jarring phone call from a bartender calling on Dean’s behalf, what if this was a similar situation. What if Dean was hurt? What if he was dead? A handful of DUI’s under Dean’s belt always translated to certain death in Sam’s eyes.

His phone again alerted him to an incoming call. ‘Dean’ was calling once again, if it even was Dean. Only having to excuse himself from Ruby, since the rest of the group had partnered off into separate deep conversations, Sam slid his body out of the booth, as best he could, apologising when he stood on a foot though not bothering to look back and see whose it was.

Making his way outside to the smoking area, Sam found it to be too loud and crowded. In his haste to find a private space, the call had rung out. Deciding whether it was worth returning the call or heading back inside to re-join his friends, the image of Dean inside the wrecked Impala had him slipping through the barriers that cordoned off the smoking area from the street and making his way down a side street. As the buzz of the club grew faint behind him, the third call from Dean lit up his phone.

Biting the bullet, Sam answered, “Yeah?”

“Sam?”

“Speaking.”

“Uh, hi, uh I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“Yeah a little bit.”

“Oh so, uh, Ruby? She’s new? I didn’t realise you and Jess broke up, though there’s no real reason for me to know that.”

Cheeks burning, Sam corrected his brother, “No, no, Jess and I are still together. Ruby is a work colleague; my team have gone out for drinks tonight, not that it’s any of your business.”

The pause that followed was long enough for Sam to start regretting his words.

“Why are you calling me Dean?”

“I, well, I’m not really sure.”

Sam sighed; this call was hardly of any importance. Dean was just lonely having chased away anyone that wanted to care about him and now he was struggling being left alone with himself.

“Dean I should better head back in, so uh, take care.”

“No, no wait! Wait, just before you go, just tell me how things are with you?”

“Uh, well” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, stepping into the road to allow a group of people to move past him. “Things are good, work’s going well, Jess is well, yeah everything’s good.”

The silence from the other end had Sam grimacing as he asked the question back. It felt awkward to have such a normal routine conversation with his brother. He not only did not want to reveal too much information about his life, but he also wasn’t sure if he even cared what Dean was up to now.

“Things are okay, I’m still at the ranch, though did get a bit lonely so ended up buying an omega dog. He’s been a bit of a handful so that’s taken up a lot of my time. I think once I find a way to get rid of him, I’ll have more time to start focusing on the work that needs to be done around here.”

Sam’s brain couldn’t keep up with the information Dean was laying out for him. An Omega? Dean had bought himself an Omega? Sam didn’t realise in his whirlwind of thoughts that he had spoken aloud.

“Yeah, I bought one a few weeks ago.”

“How did you even get one? Your record?”

“Yeah, well I managed to find a way around it.”

“Dean that doesn’t sound good, and you say he’s a handful? No wonder if you got him illegally.”

“Well yeah, but anyway I’m gonna try and see if I can sell him. He’s too much work for me.”

“Jesus Dean.”

“What?”

“You always make stupid decisions on a whim for important things and they end up biting back. Did you even do any research into it? This just reeks of your stupidity.”

“Oh fuck you Sam! You’re always putting me down because you think you’re so smart. I called you because I wanted to talk to you, but I guess this is just another one of my stupid decisions, I forgot what you’re like.”

Gritting his teeth, Sam bit out “Don’t ever contact me again.” The line ending with a firm beep. Sam hung his head and inhaled deeply. Jesus his brother was insufferable. 

Bee lining back towards the club, Sam, relishing in the idea of having a few more drinks and forgetting about the stupid conversation, he made an attempt to slide back through to the gated smoking area before a burly, hardened man blocked his path a little too roughly.

“No entry.”

“Yeah, I just came out this way.”

The bouncer had a look about him that made it clear he didn’t care about anything, “No entry.”

“But I was just inside, I came out for a phone call, can’t I just go back in?”

“No entry after 1am.”

“But I was just in there! My friends are in there.”

The bouncer spoke as though he could only regurgitate from a basic script, “No entry.”

Clenching his jaw, Sam was smart enough to know there was no way around this unless he wanted to get a beating. Most bouncers around would not hesitate to use excessive force, some even taking the law into their own hands. Admitting defeat, he turned away from the club, shoulders slumped and made his way home. Ignoring the shouts of multiples taxi drivers, Sam trudged on, reflecting on how swiftly his evening was ruined by Dean’s interrupting phone call. Though maybe the evening had already been ruined by Ruby.

With nothing else to do but let his mind whir, Sam quickly went to the information Dean had given him. His brother had bought an Omega, which was somewhat unsettling; especially since it was clear Dean couldn’t handle it and was intent on selling it. Was that the point of the phone call? Did Dean want him to take it? Of course, after all this time, the only reason Dean gets in contact is because he wants a favour. How typical. 

As his body stepped into the rhythmic lull of walking, his autopilot was engaged and Sam allowed himself to peel back the anger he had towards his brother. Getting a call from Dean in the early hours of the morning was no real surprise. Usually, he would be drunk, lonely, and feeling sorry for himself. Though Dean hadn’t sounded drunk, and the handful of times Dean had called in the past, he had been. So what was the exception tonight? 

Knowing he was probably over-thinking things, and tired that even though Dean was so far away, was still leaving him drained, Sam directed his thoughts to Jess, and then to Ruby. Flooded of feelings of guilt, he knew he had to be more assertive in rejecting Ruby’s romantic attention, especially now it wasn’t as innocent as he originally thought. He was loyal to Jess.

Making his way through the lobby doors of his apartment building, Sam walked past the elevator to take the stairs to the eleventh floor. Slotting the key in with a rattle and a click, Sam entered his own space, shut the door behind him and laid out on his sofa; feet dangling over the edge.

Turning on the tv for some mindless late-night watching, Sam tried to distract himself from Dean. Damn his conscience was working overtime. There was something niggling in his mind, not just Dean reaching out to him out of the blue while sober; because that would mean he had a genuine reason to contact Sam, but the fact he now had an Omega. God knows Dean wasn’t able to look after himself at the best of times, how on earth would he be able to look after an Omega Pet?

Knowing exactly what he would end up doing, Sam tried to push the thought away, before he inevitably made up his mind. He would visit Dean.

  
The next morning there was a knock at his apartment door. Opening it revealed his sandy-haired neighbour, a short guy with a perpetual smirk plastered on his face. Every time Sam saw him, the guy never failed to make it clear just how much he appreciated Sam.

“Gabriel, what’s up?”

“Hey Sasquatch.”

Sam hated the nickname but was glad none of his other neighbours had adopted the name, thinking at least only this tiny man of sass called him that.

“Fancy having a night in with me tonight?”

Sam exhaled heavily, dropping his head with annoyance before answering, “Gabriel you know I have a girlfriend.”

“Haha wait, what did I say? Haha woah rein it in there Sasquatch, man if you jump straight from that to us doing naughty things, you’re even more interesting than I thought!”

Sauntering in past Sam, Gabriel started nosing around as he unwrapped a lollypop to stick it into his mouth with a plop. Noticing the suitcase, Gabriel swivelled back around to stare back at Sam, “Hey, you’re not moving out are you?”

“No, just packing for a trip.”

Gabriel tongued the lolly slowly before showing his interest, “Ooh where are you going?”

“Out of town, just for a week or so.”

“Not chasing after that little girlfriend of yours, are you? Woah boy sasquatch, a few days without that blondie and you’re falling apart.”

Sam scowled, “No dumbass I’ve decided to go and see my brother.”

Gabriel frowned, “I didn’t know you had a brother?”

“Uh yeah, we don’t really talk that much anymore, but I heard from him for the first time in a while a couple of nights ago and, well, he’s been on my mind. Spoke to him again last night, and get this, the idiot bought an Omega dog. The Dean I know now is probably the most irresponsible person to be looking after a Pet. Surprised it’s even still alive.”

Gabriel had gone silent, eyes staring off into the space behind Sam. Noticing the change of demeanour, Sam spoke, “Hey Gabe, you alright?”

“Uh yeah, Sam, yeah I’m fine. Say do you know where your brother bought his Pet?”

“No idea, probably one of those dog auctions, why? You looking to buy an Omega? You know, I don’t think our building allows pets.”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just sometimes look through those sites, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for though.”

“Looking for a potential buy maybe? That’s interesting, though I don’t really see you with an Omega, you know they need more than a diet of sweets Gabe.” Sam chuckled to himself.

“Um” Gabriel coughed, his voice squeaking slightly as his throat became dry, closing up. “Yeah, Sam, yeah I’d be terrible trying to keep an Omega safe. Something I failed at.”

Sam looked up from his suitcase, slightly confused “What?”

But Gabriel was already heading towards the door, “See ya Sam, enjoy your trip.” Sam watched with confusion at the sight of his neighbour fleeing the scene. Only giving that a moment of thought, Sam turned back to his packing. He had written a list and was on his third repacking before he stopped himself to confront the fact that maybe he was in fact a little nervous to be seeing Dean again. 

  
Gabriel retreated back to his apartment in a hurry, and once he had safely crossed the threshold, he immediately shut the door to lean back on it heavily. The whiplash of emotions from the conversation with his neighbour meant he had to hold a pause at the door, eyes losing their focus as he relived the last moments he shared with his Omega brother before he was taken from him, and how he did nothing to stop it.

_“Cassie, Cassie, wake up!” Gabriel shook his younger brother awake._

_Castiel stirred then grumbled before he cracked an eye open to see which of his brothers was annoying him. Stifling a yawn, he reached out for his hearing aid, carefully slotting it in before he sat up to regard his older brother. “Gabriel what is it?” It was the middle of the night and everybody was asleep._

_“Cassie, can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Gabriel’s voice wavered, hoping the request would be accepted._

_Pulling back his duvet, Castiel invited his brother in. “What’s wrong?”_

_Gabriel welcomed the warmth of Castiel’s bed then snuggled up next to his brother, laughing at Castiel’s attempts to bat away his cold hands. Once he was comfortable, he lay quietly, staring, until Castiel elbowed him in the ribs, “Gabe, what is it?”_

_“Cassie, do you know where you’re going tomorrow?”_

_Castiel lowered his eyes, ashamed “Dad told me I’ve got to go to a special school for Omega’s.” Since Castiel had presented, his father had been treating him differently, had become indifferent and vacant._

_Gabriel remained silent; the beating he’d received earlier that day compelled him not to say a word. That very morning, he had overheard the arrangements for a man to buy Castiel. His younger brother was being sold to a stranger. Since Castiel’s eighth birthday, he had presented as an Omega; causing a divide within the family. His father was disgusted by his youngest son presenting as a lesser gender, and was greatly embarrassed about it. Quickly making the arrangements to get rid of Castiel before too many people found out about the plague upon his house._

_Gabriel’s entire life, he was taught to be disgusted by Omegas. They were animals, dogs, stupid and dirty with a constant need to be knotted. Once Castiel had presented everything Gabriel had been taught was catapulted out the window. His brother, his dear, sweet, intelligent baby brother was not disgusting, was not dirty and was not unintelligent. It was just the way society behaved. People believed that Omega hormones actually stopped mental development, causing them to be more animal-like. And although a part of Gabriel did worry if it was actually true, that Castiel would stop his development and become animalistic, looking into his brother's eyes, he just refused to believe it to be correct._

_“Gabriel?”_

_“Yes Cas?”_

_“Am I going to turn into an animal?”_

_Gabriel inhaled sharply, then regained his composure by scrunching his hands into the bedding, “Cassie, you have nothing to worry about, you won’t turn into an animal.”_

_“But dad said now I’m an Omega, I will deserve to be treated like a dog. Is that why I’m going to a special school? To be kept away from other people? I’ve heard about Omega’s, how disgusting and shameful they are. Gabriel I never thought I would actually turn into one, why did I present as an Omega?” Castiel couldn’t bear to look at his brother as silent tears fell. His rock, his anchor, it pained him to think Gabriel now looked at him differently because he presented as a lesser gender._

_Gabriel was quick to reply, grabbing Castiel’s face and talking with intent, “You don’t listen to anything Dad tells you, he’s wrong, everyone is wrong. Omega’s aren’t animals; you are not an animal Cas.”_

_Castiel dipped his eyes before whispering, “Okay”. He wasn’t completely convinced but it reassured him all the same._

_Looking over his baby brother, who was drifting back into a fidgety sleep, Gabriel was stuck on what to do. Should he tell him, tell his brother that he wasn’t going to an Omega School, but he was to be sold to a strange man, for… for… Gabriel couldn’t even bring himself to think why a man would want to buy an eight-year-old Omega. Most Omega’s were sold off to become house pets, though the rumours of others uses for Omega’s had Gabriel shuddering as tears spilled from his glassy eyes. Moving his arms around his baby brother, he hugged him tightly. The action spurred another quiet grumble from Castiel and a complaint that Gabriel was now too hot against him had Gabriel laughing wetly; glad his brother couldn’t see his face. Stroking Castiel’s hair, Gabriel knew this would most likely be the last private moments he would be spending with his brother. Another fresh swell of tears threatened to spill at the prospect. Cassie was still only a baby, what if he forgot about him? What if he didn’t remember where he came from? That his brother loved him. Gabriel couldn’t say the same for Michael or Lucifer, both having had the same reactions as their father, disgusted to believe that an Omega had spoiled their bloodline, more than eager to get rid of Castiel because of his condition. Stroking Castiel’s hair, Gabriel had a sudden idea, “Hey Cassie, can we make a pact?”_

_“Mmmph? Huh?” Castiel turned around in Gabriel’s arms, though now he was facing his brother, he still couldn’t see his red-rimmed eyes in the darkness of the bedroom._

_“Let’s make a pact, a Brother Pact.”_

_This piqued Castiel’s interest. “What’s a Brother Pact?”_

_“We mark one another, and when we are separated from each other, the mark helps us remember!”_

_“Gabriel, Dad said that Omega school isn’t far away at all, it’s not like I’m leaving to go there forever, is it?”_

_“The mark doesn’t just help us remember, it unites us as brothers. It’s a sacred bond Cassie, and now you’re growing up, you can be part of the bond too!”_

_Castiel gasped “So you, Michael and Lucifer have made a Brother Pact?!” Castiel was growing excited, the essence of sleep disappearing as he become more interested in joining the Pact. “Shouldn’t we wake Lucifer and Michael as well?”_

_“No, no, they can do it tomorrow before you leave.”_

_“Should we wait as well then, until we’re all together?”_

_“Cassie, we can do it now, its fine, Lucifer and Michael have already given their permission, and they can join tomorrow.”_

_Castiel was relieved, he hated to think about becoming a part of something so important without his other brothers._

_“What happens for the Pact to work?”_

_“I need to mark you Cassie, how does that sound?”_

_“Mark me?”_

_“Yes Cassie, for it to be a permanent mark, I need to bite you.”_

_“Bite me? I thought only true mates bit each other, not family members.” Castiel was starting to sound unsure._

_“No Cassie, this is a special mark that only family members can give to each other. It unites them as a family.”_

_“I’m not sure Gabriel? Will it hurt?”_

_“No Cassie, maybe just a slight pinch, but it won’t hurt too badly.”_

_Trusting his brother, Castiel followed his instructions and turned his back to his brother. “Should I bare my neck?”_

_“No Cassie, a family mark isn’t a mating bite, it goes on the back of your neck. It’s going to be a slight pinch okay Cas.”_

_Gabriel leaned back to turn on Castiel’s bedside lamp. Stroking his brother’s hair lovingly, he leaned down to line his mouth up with the back of Castiel’s neck. Pausing for a second, Gabriel made sure Castiel was okay before he bit down into the skin. At eleven years old, even though he presented as an Alpha, Gabriel wasn’t mature enough to be able to mate. Knowing this, he knew he could bite Castiel without a hormonal effect, though a mark would still be left in its wake._

_“Ow” Castiel hissed, as Gabriel latched himself on._

_Removing his teeth carefully after a couple of seconds of pressure, Gabriel pulled back to look at his work; a small bite mark that was marginally concealed behind the hairline along the back of Castiel’s neck. Perfect._

_Castiel turned around to Gabriel with renewed vigour. “My turn!”_

_“Your turn?”_

_“My turn to bite you.”_

_Gabriel wanted to make up another excuse to go along with his phony ploy of bonding, but looking into Castiel’s brimming eyes, he found that he simply couldn’t deny him this._

_“Okay Cassie, same thing, all you have to do is bite me on the back of the neck.”_

_A bite from Castiel would be futile. Omega’s were able to bite but were anatomically unable to mark since their hormones were predominantly weaker than the Beta or Alpha hormones, it was physically impossible. So Gabriel rolled over and allowed his little brother to bite his neck, knowing nothing would come of it. The mark wouldn’t last long nor would it scar, unlike the mark he had given._

_“Okay, ready Gabriel?”_

_“I’m ready Cassie.”_

_Castiel bit down sharply, causing Gabriel to wince. Even as an Omega, Castiel’s teeth were sharper than he expected. He bit his tongue and kept quiet, not wanting to let Castiel know it was painful, knowing it would be upsetting for him._

_Castiel latched on for slightly longer than needed, though he just wanted to be certain his bond had stuck, not wanting to mess it up. Pulling away with a string of drool, Castiel was giddy to find his own little bite mark on his brother. “Gabriel, we’re bonded! We’re bonded as brothers!”_

_Castiel tucked himself into Gabriel’s chest the moment he turned back around. Wrapping his arms tightly around his brother’s waist, Castiel spoke into Gabriel’s belly about how he could already feel the bond. Staring down at his brother’s wild mop of unruly hair, Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. Stroking Castiel’s back, Gabriel explained the most important part of the bond, “Now Cassie, remember that the mark I gave you is not just a special mark of bonding, but it is also a special protective mark. Whenever you get upset, whenever you miss me or need me, all you have to do is touch it, and it will remind you that we are bonded, that I am always here for you, no matter how far away you are. Cassie, no matter what, you’re my brother and I will do everything I can to protect you.” Looking down, Gabriel could see Castiel’s face was relaxed as he took in Gabriel’s words. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, Gabriel whispered, “I’ve got you, baby brother.” After a moment, he heard the quiet reply, “Love you Gabriel.”_

_Waking the next morning, Gabriel found himself completely wrapped up with Castiel. The two brothers entwined in one another. Wanting a few moments to sit quietly with his sleeping brother, peaceful in his arms, Gabriel was dismayed to hear his father calling for him. Not wanting to risk Chuck’s shouting to wake Castiel, he quietly slipped out of the tangle of arms and left Castiel’s bedroom. As he creeped out, Chuck was already making his way to Castiel’s room, having already checked Gabriel’s. Eyes darkening, Chuck eyed his son suspiciously; “You haven’t said anything to him have you?”_

_Gabriel looked down in shame, “No.”_

_“Good. Though either way, he’s out of here. Go and wake him up, Mr Crowley will be here for pick-up shortly.”_

_“Dad please, don’t do this. You can’t sell him, you just can’t.”_

_Chuck’s face became thunderous as he sneered at his son, “That thing in there is an Omega, he had brought shame on our family, and I will not allow that filth to remain in this house any longer.”_

_“How can you say that? He isn’t a thing or filth, he’s your son and you can’t sell him off to some random Alpha.”_

_Chuck, having had enough, started to make his way back down the stairs, with Gabriel, becoming desperate, in tow._

_“But do you even know who you’re selling him to? Who is this Mr Crowley? What if he doesn’t treat him well? Does he know that Cas is deaf?”_

_“He knows, which is why the smug bastard negotiated for the selling price to be lowered.” Chuck continued on while Gabriel came to a halt, shocked. How was his father discussing his baby brother like a quick sale? An unwanted item he was eager to get rid of? It physically pained him, and once his father was out of earshot, Gabriel allowed himself to cry. How was this happening? Gabriel let out heaving sobs, his heart heavy and wracked with grief. Forcing himself to stand tall, he breathed deeply in an attempt to compose himself. After a moment, he returned upstairs and approached Castiel’s door, knocked, and then slipped inside. His brother was still in his slumber, and Gabriel regretted to be the one to wake Castiel into such an awful day. Shaking him gently, Gabriel spoke softly, “Cassie, Cassie, it’s time to wake up.” Castiel blearily opened his eyes, latching on to Gabriel before rolling over in a huff. Back to his brother, Castiel complained into his pillow, “Gabriel I don’t want to go to Omega School, I want to stay at home with you.”_

_Perching on the edge of Castiel’s bed, Gabriel remained silent. Not daring to utter any word of encouragement or positivity. During his silent turmoil, Castiel raised head to look over his shoulder to face his brother, “I don’t want to go Gabriel.”_

_Not being able to face his brother, Gabriel stood to go and stand by the window, staring out but not looking at anything in particular. “You better start getting ready Cas, you wouldn’t want to be late for your first day of school would you?”_

_Hiding his tears, Gabriel quickly left his brother’s room. Unable to face the betrayal he himself had inflicted. As he brooded across the landing fretting, the sound of a car pulling up outside the house diverted his attention. Rushing to the window allowed him to see a sleek black car pulling up and a stout looking man regarding the house with smirk on his lips. Thundering down the stairs, Gabriel intercepted his father, begging him to change his mind before they reached the door. The threat of another beating had Gabriel backing away, though the familiar feeling of cowardice was bubbling up once again._

_“Mr Novak, pleasure.” The strange man was English._

_“Mr Crowley, the pleasure is mine, welcome.”_

_The two men shook hands amicably, and the jovial, casual manner of their introductions was making Gabriel sick. It was deplorable and to think he also had a hand in this set up was making him feel nauseous._

_Once both men were situated in the living room, Gabriel winced as Chuck called up the stairs, demanding for Castiel’s appearance. Sitting ramrod straight, Gabriel had the awful experience to watch Castiel’s face drop from uncertainty to downright confusion once he came downstairs and noticed the strange man sitting in his living room. Desperate to reach out for his brother, Gabriel caught the harsh look his father was directing at him, so in his obedience, remained seated. All he could do was watch the innocence and confusion fester around Castiel._

_“This man, is Mr Crowley Cassie, he will be taking you to your new school.”_

_“School?” the strange man, Mr Crowley, smirked, eyeing Chuck Novak with delight, before turning fully to Castiel, “Yes my love, your father is right, I’ll be taking you to your new school.”_

_Castiel stared up at the man his father had invited in and Gabriel was overwhelmed with guilt and disgust. Chuck doesn’t even have the decency to be honest with his son, even in a moment like this. Castiel turned back to their father with concern marring his features, “Dad, where are Michael and Lucifer? We need to finish our Brother Pact before I leave.”_

_Chuck looked towards his youngest with confusion, probably the only emotion he’d shown towards his son other than indifference. “Michael and Lucifer are out Castiel.”_

_“Oh, okay we can finish it when I come and visit, can’t we?”_

_“Oh yes, but of course! When you come back you can tell your brothers all about School and you’ll be able to finish your Pact!” Mr Crowley piped up, finding Castiel’s innocence absolutely divine._

_Gabriel could clearly see that Mr Crowley made Castiel’s skin crawl, but his sweet brother not wanting to be rude, just lowered his eyes. No matter how nervous the man made him, Castiel parted those fears to make way for relief. Though still feeling the sting of upset, Castiel was incredibly glad that at least he had bonded with Gabriel, and hadn’t waited until this morning to do it. Turning back to his brother, Castiel smiled brightly at him._

_Seeing how innocent his brother was, that he did not truly understand the subtext of the situation, was hard to watch. Gabriel regretted not warning Castiel, he could have at least prepared him, talked him through what could potentially happen. Now he was going in completely unprepared and innocent, and seeing his brother smile so cheerfully at him broke his resolve. Not able to keep quiet any longer, he shot up and aimed straight for Castiel, bawling “You can’t do this! How can you do this?”_

_Castiel flinched in his seat as Gabriel launched towards him and embraced him into a tight, protective hug._

_“Your father has every right to sell his property young man, and that property is now being sold to me.” Crowley sneered at the young Alpha in front of him._

_Castiel would have whipped his head up at Crowley’s remark but was unable to do so for Gabriel’s hand protecting and covering his head._

_“He’s not your property! He’s my baby brother! And you’re not taking him.” Gabriel cried back, clasping Castiel in such a grip that he could feel his ribs being crushed._

_Still utterly confused about what was going on, Castiel was reeling as the words around him sunk in. ‘Property’ and sold’ lingered at the forefront of his mind and suddenly this whole set up made sense. He had heard about Omega’s being sold off for pets, had heard of them being sold to other Alpha’s, he wasn’t going to a school, he was being sold! Sold as a pet! Attaching himself to his older brother, Castiel had a dreadful feeling that if he let go, he would never see him again._

_Tired of the theatrics, Crowley made his move, physically grabbing Castiel to haul him away from his devoted brother. The feeling of being ripped out of his brother’s arms was heart-wrenching. The warmth, the love, and the security all shattered by the grip of an Englishman._

_“Dad, what’s happening? Dad?” Castiel wildly looked around for his father, but upon seeing his father’s emotionless face, the fear spiked inside Castiel. Starting to struggle, Crowley overpowered him by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, pinning him against his chest. Attempting to buck out of his grip, Castiel started shrieking for Gabriel to help him. Gabriel was there in an instant, prying Crowley’s arms away from him, but the only time Chuck was willing to intervene was to physically remove Gabriel and drag him away into another room. At that, only Crowley and Castiel remained. Going pliant from fear, Crowley picked up Castiel and took him outside to where another suited man appeared, taking him from Crowley’s harsh clasp. Thrashing around in his grip, Castiel desperately called out for Gabriel._

_Hearing Castiel screaming for him, and not being able to help, completely tore his heart in two. With the grip of Chuck’s hand heavy on his shoulders, all Gabriel could do was stare out the window, as his brother was dumped into the back of the car, and driven away._

The pleading, desperate screams of his brother had haunted Gabriel his entire life. After watching Castiel being dragged away, Gabriel packed his bags and ran away. Unable to live in the household under the thumb of Chuck and his older brothers any longer, he tracked down his great aunt Naomi, who lived in Arizona, grateful she was accepting of his presence. And there, he did everything he could to try and track down his brother. His age limited him greatly, but still, he persisted.

The moment he came of age at eighteen, becoming an adult alpha, Gabriel could legally buy an Omega. With a gargantuan task ahead of him, Gabriel began trawling through as many auction sites he could, attending as many auctions as he could, and even advertising his need for an Omega with his brother’s description. And though he’d got many responses from fathers, brothers and Alpha’s selling their dark-haired, blue-eyed Omegas, none of them were Castiel. Nothing had shown up, nothing. It was like Cas had just disappeared. There was no record of him anywhere. The trail went cold the moment he left his family home, with Chuck still listed as his official owner. After years of searching, Gabriel realised he’d have to face the reality that he may never see his brother again. 

Once Sam had landed, worked his way through security and walked out of the airport doors and into the Kansas air, he immediately regretted his decision. What on earth was he thinking coming here? An unannounced visit was certainly not going to help his deteriorating relationship with his brother.

Standing at the bus stop, Sam debated what he should do. At that moment, he suddenly wished he had planned it through. For Sam, getting on the plane was the most important step, but now, he was lost. Regardless of his lack of encouragement on his part to see Dean, Sam caught the next bus into Lawrence. Loading his suitcase into the storage hold, he boarded then settled himself into an available window seat, not feeling too anxious about the journey itself, but the destination. Sam felt the need to move almost without end; if his limbs were moving the anxiety was gone, or at least he could ignore it a while. As the countryside passed, he could lose himself in nature, much like in a dream. 

It was hot, the sun was at its highest and beaded sweat trickled down Sam’s forehead. The bus rocking from side to side as he travelled the familiar roads, his brain afforded the time to daydream or rest. There are those who chatter, their voices rising and blending together in the sweet ritual of friends. Some absorb themselves in music, others drift into worries that will erase themselves on arrival when their body re-joins the world of moving and speaking to others. And so it goes on that way, all of the passengers together and separate, feeling all the same turns and bumps.

The trip from the airport to Dean’s town took just over an hour. Since there were only two bus stops, one on the outskirts and one closer to downtown, Sam opted for the latter, believing he could just get a taxi from there.

The travel had taken away most of his anxiety, but upon his arrival into town, Sam was teetering over the edge again. His nerves once again coiling tightly in his stomach as he hailed down the next available taxi he saw. Mumbling out the address quietly, twice, so the driver could make it out. Sam sat back, hands patting his thighs rhythmically as he tried to control his emotions and replaying the potential scenes he was about to walk into. There were so many, and of course, his mind continued to supply him with the worst potential outcomes: Dean getting angry at his arrival. Dean being surprised at his arrival then getting angry. Drunk Dean being surprised at his arrival then getting angry. Sam also wondered whether if Dean would be home or occupying a stool at some bar, coming home drunk, being surprised at his arrival then getting angry.

Any situation Sam imagined, it ended with his brother getting angry. And if Dean got angry, he needed an escape route.

“Hey, is it possible to wait five minutes at the destination? I’m not yet sure if I’ll be able to stay.”

“No problem bud.”

Sam appreciated the driver didn’t ask questions, though that line of work afforded taxi drivers with the skills to read people and between the lines.

The journey to the ranch took forty minutes, and what Sam wouldn’t do for more time to prepare himself.

“Just give me a wave if things are okay.”

“Thanks, just give me a minute.”

Sam took longer than necessary getting his suitcase from the trunk, and took even longer walking down the driveway towards the house. The Impala was parked which meant Dean was home. 

Taking a moment to brace himself, Sam inhaled deeply and knocked on the door. Letting out his breath slowly to control his nerves. 

At first Sam wasn’t sure if Dean was actually home, but the thuds of footsteps approaching had his heart racing. 

Dean hurried to the door, hoping it was Benny, fully expecting it to be Benny, and was almost taken aback by surprise to open the door to reveal his younger brother, Sam. Mouth slackened for a second, Dean managed to regain his motor skills to stammer out, “Sam? What? What are you doing here?”

“I came for a visit?” Sam hated how unsure he sounded, but right now he needed to tread lightly. Observing Dean, he didn’t seem to be drunk, which was good. And in regards to his anger, he seemed to be more on the surprised side of things. Sam decided to wait out the inevitable anger before waving the taxi away.

“You came for a visit? Why?”

“You don’t seem happy to see me. Should I leave?” Sam was micro analysing Dean’s face. Waiting for a moment of implosion, so was surprised to see Dean welcome him inside. “No! No I’m happy you’re here. Why don’t you come in?”

Deciding whether to trust this display of warmth, Sam risked turning to the taxi driver; who in his kindness had waited longer than five minutes, and waved him away, giving a thumbs up for good measure. With his back to Dean, he watched the taxi circle round then retreat back up the track, taking Sam’s only opportunity for a quick getaway with him.

Stepping into the hallway, Sam felt awkward; not knowing where to look or even stand. Shifting his weight side to side, Sam looked over his brother who, did not look good. If the bags under his eyes and the harsh lines were anything to go by, he’d say that Dean hadn’t slept yet or wasn’t sleeping well. Sam lied to keep things amicable. “You’re looking well Dean.”

Dean seemed to take that with a pinch of salt, grimacing and rubbing the back of his neck, “Thanks man, uh, so do you, I mean really, you look great.”

Sam nodded his thanks as he pulled his mouth into a thin line, though his eyes drifted from his brother, finding the civility rather awkward.

“So uh, can I take your bags or anything? Take them to your room?”

Sam laughed at the attempt of hospitality, though it was more a chuckle of humour than of mockery. “That’s okay Dean, I did used to live here remember?”

“Oh yeah right, ha, that’s true, you know where your old room is. Everything’s still as you left it, what was left of it anyway.”

Sam ducked his head as he passed by, choosing not to comment, and taking the stairs two at a time. Relieved to get away but also relieved things so far were going surprisingly well.

Stepping into his old room held a nostalgic tone to it and Sam allowed himself to wear rose coloured glasses to look around. He still felt like a stranger but considered maybe this is how he’ll feel around Dean from now on. Sitting on the bed, Sam contemplated what to do next. Half of him wanted to jump right out that window, and the other half wanted to lock himself in this room. Deciding that breaking both of his legs would be very counterproductive, Sam settled on laying back and staring up at the ceiling, giving himself five minutates to regroup.

Sam realised he’d spent the better part of an hour bringing his bags upstairs, so decided to bite the bullet and head back down, facing his brother’s pending questions. Dean was obviously curious as to why Sam was there. Why was he there? Composing himself for a moment, Sam quickly decided the best way to keep things calm was to say he was here to see Dean. He wasn’t worried; he wasn’t checking up on him, this was a visit out of brotherly love. Sam cringed at that, Dean wouldn’t buy that, not for a second. Ultimately deciding that he didn’t need to compose a lie but to remain as honest and authentic as possible, Sam pushed himself out of the door, prepared to face any lingering questions his brother had for him.

Stepping down the stairs, just one at a time and a lot slower than his usual pace, Sam made it downstairs to be welcomed with a mouth-watering smell. Rounding into the kitchen, Sam saw Dean taking a dish out of the oven.

“Hey you’re up, thought maybe you needed to nap after the flight or something.”

“Yeah, I was resting a little.” Sam decided to give himself that lie, no point telling that truth.

“I was just about to wake you; dinner should be ready in about five minutes, that’s if you’re hungry?”

“Oh sure, sounds great! Let me just wash up first.” Sam left the kitchen and found solace in the bathroom. Gripping the sink, Sam berated himself for being so nervous. If he kept it up Dean would catch on to his strange behaviour. He was going to go out there, sit with his brother, and enjoy dinner with him. No nerves, no awkwardness, no lies, just dinner; he could do that. Pep talk over, Sam washed and dried his hands before joining Dean back in the kitchen, where his brother was already serving dinner, Chicken and rice with a side of vegetables.

“This all looks great Dean.” Sam spoke truthfully this time.

“Yeah well, I haven’t done all that much cooking around here lately. I forgot it’s kinda nice to host dinner for someone.”

“Well it smell’s delicious, you certainly haven’t lost it.”

Dean laughed a throaty laugh, “Well I guess I can say you’re welcome.”

The scraping of utensils on plates was the only sound that filled the room. Not one word had been spoken, not one utterance between the brothers. All Sam could do was anxiously stare down at his plate, slowing the pace as he drew close to finishing, wanting to long out his meal as long as possible. Questioning whether he should leave the last mouthful, Dean spoke for the first time since starting, “You want seconds? I made enough for seconds.”

“Yes I would, thanks.”

Dean spilled some more chicken and rice onto Sam’s plate, repeating the process with his own, before tucking back in, seemingly unaware of Sam’s plight. Dean had completely zoned out, the daydream he had at the start of the meal had carried him away, coming to, he realised he hadn’t said a word. Misreading his brother’s nervous energy for that and not understanding the reality of it, Dean tried to start a conversation.

“So, how was your flight?”

Sam startled at the sound of Dean’s voice, the gentle question and curious look in his eyes had Sam floundering. “Was fine, yeah, was a typical flight.”

“How’d do you get into town? Taxi?”

“No I got the bus, then was able to hail a taxi down.”

“You know if I knew you were coming I could have picked you up myself.” Dean didn’t meet Sam’s eyes at that, choosing instead to look down to play with the remaining rice on his plate.

“Well yeah, but then my visit wouldn’t have been a surprise now would it?”

“So tell me Sam, what is the surprise? What’s got you travelling here all the way from California? I mean don’t get me wrong you’re always welcome here it’s just, why right now?”

God here we go, this is what Sam wished he’d prepared himself for. Realising the appropriate answer was not going to be dropped out of the sky, onto his plate and into his mouth to regurgitate, Sam decided to speak honestly, hoping his brother would at least appreciate that.

“Dean, I decided to visit because after months, years of no contact, out of the blue I get two phone calls from you-“

“Well that Ruby chick picked up the first time so I called again.”

“No Dean, I mean two different phone calls, two separate occasions.”

Dean's forehead crumpled at that, eyes squinting slightly as he tried to remember. “I called you another time? I swear the only time I called was the other night.”

“Yeah Dean that’s only what you remember.”

Dean reddened at the comment, embarrassed to look back up.

“Well I guess it wasn’t you who did the actual calling, it was some guy, can’t remember his name, a bartender.”

Dean looked back up in confusion, embarrassment be damned.

“Huh? A bartender? What?”

“A few weeks ago a Bartender from some club called me, you told him to call me before you passed out at the bar.”

Dean’s eyes went vacant as he tried to think back. “When was this? How long ago?”

Sam shrugged, “Maybe a couple of weeks, if that.”

“But why would he call you?”

“Look, Dean, he called because he wanted someone to help you get back home. He stopped you from driving that night. You kept saying to call me and he did, only with me telling him I couldn’t pick your drunk ass up because I was halfway across the country.”

Dean ignored the subtle dig because his memory finally provided some insight, “Oh right that finally makes sense! A few weeks back I woke up in the back of my car, someone had left a blanket and a note about where to find my keys. That must have been then. Sorry man, I didn’t realise what I was doing, I didn’t mean to get him to call you, you must have been pretty pissed huh?”

Sam saw a flash of vulnerability in Dean’s eyes before he answered, “That’s fine Dean, it wasn’t the greatest work interruption but just know if I had been closer, I would have come got you.”

Dean looked down once again, wanting to believe Sam’s words but worried he’d find the lie in his brother’s eyes.

“And then your call the other night paired with that, I just got the feeling I should come and see how things are.”

Dean sat up a little straighter, “Well yeah, things are okay, I’m still looking after myself just fine.”

Sam decided to cut to the chase. Another real reason for his visit was to check out Dean’s omega situation. And once the realisation hit that he’d yet to see the omega, Sam decided to be insistent to get answers.

“It’s not you I’m all that worried about Dean.”

Dean’s mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ as he processed Sam’s words before his eyes widened with comprehension.

“The omega? You came for the omega?”

Sam could immediately sense this seemed to be a sensitive topic for Dean, having survived dinner with him so far, he understood he’d have to tread on eggshells moving forward.

“Not just the omega Dean, I came to see you but also thought while I’m here I could check out what the deal is with your new pet.”

“What do you mean what the deal is?” Dean’s jaw clenched which was a sign for Sam to slow down a little.

“Dean you said yourself you wanted to get rid of it, right? That’s the deal I mean, maybe I can help you sell him?”

Sam’s fingers tapped the edge of the table rhythmically to calm him as he waited out the storm in Dean’s eyes, internally cheering to see the anger dissipate and curiosity return in its stead. 

“You wanna help? Wanna help me sell the omega?” Dean eyed his brother suspiciously, not sure what the game was. But the idea of Sam helping could actually be a great one. Who better to get him through any legal loopholes than his lawyer brother?

“Sure, while I’m here may as well see him and see what can be done, right?”

Sam was eager to see where Dean had been hiding the Omega away, curious to find out why Dean even wanted rid of him. But mainly there was an undercurrent of worry for the poor thing. Sam didn’t agree with keeping omega’s as pets, so was itching to see how he could help. 

“So where is the omega?” Sam began to collect both empty plates, placing them into the sink.

Dean replied nonchalantly as he rooted around the fridge for dessert, “Out in the Barn.”

Sam accidentally dropped the plates into the sink, thankful they didn’t break.

“You keep him outside in the Barn?” Sam shook his head in decline at the proffered slice of pie.

“Yeah? What of it?” Dean hadn’t yet picked up on Sam’s scrutiny as he wolfed down both slices of pie he retrieved from the fridge; the one for himself and the denied one from Sam.

“He’s just left out there? By himself? In the cold and dark?”

Sensing the accusations, Dean jumped to his own defence, “Sam he’s fine. I made him a Pen, he’s fed, he’s watered (he’s punished) just fine.” Dean left out that last part, not wanting to trigger the ‘animal right’s’ protestor out of his brother.

“Well then can I go and see him?”

“I suppose, though I’m not sure how he’ll react with you being around. He’s a stubborn little shit at the best of times.”

Sam tried to play his cards right though cringing at his own reply, “Dean, I’m sure one little Omega wouldn’t be stupid enough to go against two Alpha’s.” 

Dean seemed convinced with that argument, neglecting the plates in the sink to grab the key for the Barn’s padlock.

Sam followed his brother onto the Porch only for Dean to stop him with his arm against his chest, “Hey where are you going?”

Confused, Sam stepped back from the arm barrier in front of him to address his brother clearly, “I’m coming to see the Omega?”

Dean’s eyes shifted before he put both hands out in front of him, “No, no, I get that, it’s just you don’t have to come down with me, I’m bringing him to you.”

“But isn’t that just effort, all I want is to take a look at him.”

Dean eyes shifted again as he spoke, “Uh in that case, just give me a few minutes alright, to uh, to check he’s okay. So just wait here and wait for me to call you down alright.”

Dean was clearly hiding something, there was something he didn’t want Sam to see. But what? He was willing for Sam to see the Omega, by why the need for the head start?

Dean started to head down the path towards the Barn, “Give me a couple of minutes alright Sam? Just wait right there!”

Sam eyed his brothers retreating form, a bad feeling heavy in his gut. He wanted to sneak down and follow but the quick and frequent glances back from Dean had him pacing around on the porch decking. This whole thing stunk of something rotten if it hadn’t been that way from when he first found out Dean even owned an Omega.

With one last quick check over his shoulder to make sure his brother had kept his word about waiting, Dean unlocked the door to quickly shuffle in and towards the Pen where Castiel remained chained. The omega wasn’t conscious, so it was easy to remove him from his binds and lay him down on the floor, back towards the wall, to hide the injuries Dean had inflicted just hours before. Castiel being out of it was a blessing really, and if it worked to his liking, Sam would get a quick look at the sleeping omega, be satisfied and head back inside, no questions asked.

Heading back outside, Dean poked his head around the door to signal Sam; who had already started making his way down the path.

As Sam got closer, Dean complained “I told you to wait.”

“Yeah well you were taking so long doing whatever it was you were doing.”

“Well he’s asleep so you won’t be seeing much of him today.”

Sam eyed Dean warily, “It took you that long to check he was sleeping?”

Sam moved closer to the Pen, inspecting it though not really knowing what he should be looking for. Dean seemed to be agitated next to him, who then tried to hurry things along, “You done? Omega’s asleep, what more do you want?”

Sam looked over the sleeping form, noting the slack face and the dark hair, sighing at the collar. Realising there was nothing more to be done; he turned back to Dean to exit the Barn when he heard the slightest little noise. So slight he was certain he had imagined it. Pausing in his step, he held up a finger to Dean, shushing him when his brother asked what the hell he was doing. Staying still, Sam listened out for the noise again. After an extensive silence, Sam resumed his exit when he heard it again, yet this time it was notably louder. A moan, a garbled moan.

Turning towards the Pen, Sam was certain the Omega was making the whined noises. Stepping over the gate, Sam went to approach the still form before Dean grabbed him by the shoulder. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking on him, he seems to be awake.”

“He’s not Sam, just leave him!”

Sam approached cautiously, though that was just out of general common sense, he truly felt this Omega was no threat. The omega’s face was still slack though seemed to be slightly pinched. Peeking over the still body, Sam got a glimpse of the beaten, bloody back. Gasping and standing back, Sam spun round to regard his brother before turning back to the injured Omega, bending down to get a closer look at his back.

“Sam don’t!”

“Dean he’s injured, look how weak he is!”

“He’s faking, if you approach him he’ll attack!”

“Dean, you surely can’t believe that?!” Sam slowly approached so not to startle the tiny Omega dog slumped in the corner. Gently touching his forehead, Sam felt the heat from his skin. “He’s feverish, we have to get him inside.”

“Are you kidding? He’s not really sick.”

“Dean if you leave him out here he’ll die.”

“Where the fuck will we put him?”

“The spare bedroom.”

“No Sam! That dog is not coming inside!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t trust him. He’s playing a game, he’s faking. I swear to God Sam if you touch that Omega-“

“Dean stop, just stop and help me pick him up, I don’t want to aggravate his wounds.”

Sam carefully sidestepped around the small body, assessing the best way to carry him back to the house. Since Dean made no move to help, Sam knelt down and very gently slid his hands under the frail shoulders to shuffle the Omega towards him, needing no strength at all to lift the Omega under his arms and to smoothly place his head in the crook of his neck, allowing the boy to lie on his chest. Sam curved his arm underneath the Omega’s bottom to hold him up, using his free hand to cradle the back of his head. Glaring at Dean as he passed, he barked at his brother to open the door for him.

“Sam you don’t need to do this.”

Sam turned back to scowl fiercely at his brother, feeling his Alpha instincts whir to life. “If you don’t help me Dean I swear on my life you will not live to see the end of this day.”

Sam knew he had bared his teeth at his brother in a display of dominance, and it wasn’t something he’d ever done before, but it did the trick to get Dean running over to the door to hold it open. Wanting to get to the house as fast as possible, but also not wanting to jostle the Omega in his arms, Sam settled for a half jog, half walk, kind of movement. Dean reached the porch before him and he was grateful that his brother held the door open for him there as well.

Hurriedly making his way to the spare bedroom on the ground floor, Sam very, very gently, laid the Omega on his side, exposing his back to the room. In the light of the bedroom, the Omega’s back looked much worse than Sam had originally anticipated from what he had seen in the Barn. The Omega’s back was ripped to shreds, flecks of dried blood decorating the surrounding skin. Angry, swollen lines crisscrossing up and down his back. 

Sam had to stand back to regain himself, eyes unable to move away from the sickening view. The more he stared, the angrier he got, and the angrier he got, the more he could feel himself losing control. Holding his eye contact, unable to look at his brother in the face, Sam snarled, “What have you done?”

Dean had the decency to look ashamed of himself. Hovering in the doorway, he could only look on and wish the floor would open up. His abhorrent behaviour shown off in the light, with an audience, had him curling up inside himself. The shame was overwhelming, so Dean did what he did best, denied everything.

“It was Benny.” Dean mumbled half-heartedly, already knowing that Sam was too smart to fall for something like that.

“Don’t give me that crap Dean, you did this!” Sam thundered back; knowing Dean’s tell from a mile away. “You did this!” Each word accompanied with a harsh jab of his finger into Dean’s chest. “No wonder you didn’t want me coming into the Barn with you, trying to keep me away, so you could do what? Huh? What did you not want me seeing?”

Dean had never seen his brother this angry before, and suddenly felt quite intimidated. Usually, it was the other way around, something he wasn’t equally proud of either. Tentatively, Dean attempted to step inside the room but was blocked by a solid body. Sam used his 6ft 5 frame to block Dean away from the door. His brother had always scared him, but now, feeling empowered by protecting the Omega, Sam stood his ground. “You are not coming in here Dean, I am not letting you near this Omega. Do you understand?”

“Just let me help.”

Sam huffed out a breath, shoulders drawn tight as he regarded his brother. “You have a first aid box?” Dean nodded. “Get it.”

The next hour was spent with Sam cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging the Omega’s back, who he’d since learned was called Castiel. Sam was thankful the Omega hadn’t fully regained consciousness, as the process of dealing with his back would have been agonizing. A lack of medication in the house had Sam sending Dean out to get sufficient supplies, and numbing cream was on that list. 

Once the injured back was appropriately bandaged to Sam’s satisfaction, he went about attempting to make the Omega comfortable in bed. Arranging the pillows to hold him up on his side but keeping them away from his back to avoid any pressure on the newly wrapped bandages.

Sam was able to coax the liquid paracetamol past Castiel’s slack mouth and down his throat. The medicine wouldn’t provide immediate reprieve nor would it heal him completely, but it was better than nothing. Sam knew though that they needed a Doctor, they needed the appropriate prescriptions and supplies to heal the poor, injured Omega laying helplessly in front of him.

Smoothing back Castiel’s sweaty hair away from his heated forehead, Sam reached for the cool flannel to gently dab his face. The Omega was still burning up. Rising to his feet, Sam turned to his brother, who was still and quiet as he watched on from the doorway; unable to pass the threshold under Sam's watch. “What we’re doing here isn’t enough, we either need to take him somewhere or call someone in.”

Dean eyes were glazed over, just staring into space. “Hey, Dean? Dean!” Sam snapped his fingers, gaining Dean’s attention.

“Most places would be shut now, plus I’m not sure if any vets are mobile.”

“Dean I don’t think we can wait.”

Dean goes to step forward, hand outstretched with the intention to touch the Omega’s forehead. Sam was quick to swat him away with earnest. “Dean”, Sam warned.

Dean’s irritation seeped through his words, “I’m not gonna hurt him Sam.”

“Did you tell yourself that before you whipped him?”

Dean clenched his jaw, staring at Sam’s audacity before quickly leaving the room to refocus. He was angry, irritated, but was also so ashamed, so embarrassed and so exposed.

Sam was hot on his heel, “Dean, this isn’t the time for us to fight, or to even be mad at one another. We need to focus on the situation at hand. That Omega in there? Castiel?” The use of the Omega’s name had Dean looking up, “Needs our help. He’s in a bad way Dean and we need to get someone here who can do more for him than we can as soon as possible.”

“I’ll check around, look online or something.”

Sam nodded grimly before disappearing back into the spare room. Dean watched the hulking retreating form of his brother before making his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, an alcoholic drink. Bourbon was always able to calm his chaotic thoughts, firmly grounding him, his reliable anchor. And right now his sails were flailing about uncontrollably. Dean needed to be numb, preferred it.

Hand shaking as he reached out to grab the glass so he could take a long pull, Dean felt himself spiralling once more. What was going on? How was this even happening? The change of pace he had initially predicted had him nervous. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, Sam wasn’t even meant to be here. The Omega wasn’t supposed to be in here. Dean could feel his anger bubbling up but he quelled it with another pull of his drink, a deeper pull to finish off the glass. Before he was able to pour himself another glass, Sam walked in. Instantly noticing the bottle of Whiskey, he let out a long sigh, “Really Dean?”

Dean looked over towards his brother and pulled a face as to say ‘I can’t help it’. Sam picked up on the hint and decided not to push it, now wasn’t the time. “Any luck finding a 24/7 Vet? Or even an on-call one? Anything?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Uh, no not yet, still looking into it.”

Sam eyed him for a moment before sitting down next to his brother. “He’s bandaged up but I don’t know what else we can do for him tonight.” Sam was so unbelievably angry at his brother, so livid, so unsettled by his behaviour. Dean had his problems, sure, but this was abhorrent. Still, he had to remain level-headed, he couldn't afford to lose his cool. If he got too angry and Dean turfed him out, that would leave the Omega alone and unprotected. 

Dean turned his body to fully face his brother, “Sam, no offence but, what are you doing?”

Sam leaned back in his seat to regard his brother, eyes widening slightly at the complaint.

Dean followed through, “I mean, you come here, which don’t get me wrong your visit isn’t totally unwelcome, but why the concern? It’s just some stupid Omega dog in there, there’s no point getting all riled up over it. I told you already I intend to get rid of him.”

Sam gaped at his brother, wanting to with equal parts to either punch Dean in the face or roundhouse kick him. “Jesus Christ Dean, what’s the matter with you? Whether or not it is just some ‘stupid Omega dog’, he still deserves to be treated with some respect. I can’t even tell you how disgusted I am with you right now, how disappointing it is to find out my own brother beats and whips defenceless Omega’s like it’s some sort of sick game or sport. And regardless if you want to get rid of him, he still needs to be checked out by a Vet or something. Nobody will want to be an injured Omega Dean, use your head.”

Dean rose from his seat to circle the counter, “Defenceless? Sam you don’t know what the Omega’s like! He was a fight dog Sam! A fight dog that’s disobedient and has attacked me multiple times!”

“He attacked you?” Sam was skeptical but Dean’s words held his concern.

“Yeah! I can’t remember how many times that little shit has bitten me or scratched me.”

“He really bit you? He just looks so small, so helpless.”

“Well he isn’t! You should have seen the place I got him from Sam, those fight dogs were vicious, all of them! I’m starting to regret even going there in the first place.”

“Jesus Dean, you went to an illicit dogfighting place to get your Omega?”

“Don’t judge alright, it was the only way to get one without people sniffing around my record.”

“And if he’s as violent as you say, what are we going to do with him? I’m now not sure we can just leave him in there unattended.”

Dean threw his arms up, “Thank you! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Perhaps we could chain him to bed or something. I did say to leave him in the Barn but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I still would have liked him out of there, violent or not he still needs to be treated. And irrespective of him biting you, you still shouldn’t have whipped him.”

“I admit I got a little carried away, but he needed to be punished!”

“This whole thing stinks Dean. And I still can’t believe you went to an underground dogfighting club, those places are shady as hell.”

“Yeah well it seemed legit enough, got receipts for the damn thing and everything.”

“Receipts?”

“Yeah well you know, paperwork. A place as sketchy as that still makes the sale official. I’m now named as the official owner if you would believe it, which is why I’m having such a hard time getting rid of the thing.”

Sam hummed in surprise, “You’re the official owner? I didn’t realise back-alley places even bothered with details like that.” 

“Frustrating as hell in hindsight.”

“Well can’t you just take the dog back then? If they gave you a receipt of sale surely you can return him?”

Dean sighed and rubbed his fingers into his eyes, “Nah can’t do that, was given a very clear verbal warning that if I try and return the dog, the Omega won’t be the only one not leaving the property, you know.”

Sam grimaced, “Jesus, Dean how is it you’ve got yourself into this?”

“I blame Benny. And the son of a bitch still hasn’t replied to my messages.”

“What’s this Benny got to do with Castiel?”

“Dude agreed to take the dog but his own pet attacked him.”

Sam shot up at that, “Wait, do you mean they fought or?”

“No, this other dog just straight up attacked him, was pretty shocking, even Benny was slightly freaked.”

“And what did Castiel do?”

“Not much really, he did look pretty afraid but guess he knew what was coming?”

“Didn’t even put up a fight?”

“Nope.”

Sam knitted his brows together, deep in thought. “Nothing about this makes any sense. Why would a fight dog, one that has a history of violence, one that’s been vicious towards his Alpha, suddenly become afraid of another Omega?” Trying to work out the meaning, Sam sought out more clues, “Was Benny’s dog a fighter as well?”

“Yeah Benny got his Pet from the same place I got Castiel. Benny was the one that took me there. Though Benny made out his Omega had retired from fighting.”

“So both Castiel and Benny’s Pet were Omega fight dogs? But then why would Castiel not put up a fight? It doesn’t make sense? And if the other dog was retired, why would he suddenly turn at the sight of Castiel?” Sam returned his gaze back to Dean, questioning.

“Hey don’t look at me! I don’t have a clue about any of this. All I know is that the Omega I ended up with is vicious.”

“You still have the paperwork right? The receipt of sale of the Omega?”

Dean was hesitant, “Yeah, why?”

“Can I take a look at it? There may be something on there about returning him or a way to resell him somewhere else without you suspiciously disappearing.”

Dean chuckled, “Oh sure, that would help. I did look over the paperwork, I mean it’s not all that official, more like scraps of paper put together but it’s something. Hang on.” Dean jogged out of the room, thankful his brother had visited after all. If Sam could get him out of this, he would be eternally grateful.

Sam watched Dean, who was practically giddy, leave the room. Something was sitting heavy in his gut as he went over the situation in his mind. Something just wasn’t right about all this, and in his heart, he still felt the Omega lying unconscious in the next room wasn’t as threatening as Dean made him out to be.

Sam stared down at the kitchen counter picking at his nails, a nervous habit he had. He only had to wait a couple of minutes before Dean was back in the room, waving the papers around then slapping them down in front of him.

“There, I’m sure that’s all the paperwork I was given.”

Sam took in the raggedy sheets of paper Dean had procured for him. He hadn’t really expected much from the place Dean had bought his Omega, but he did think it would be better than what he was looking at. Torn and crumpled pieces of paper haphazardly put together, one even had a coffee cup stain on it. Shaking his head, he collected the papers and looked up at Dean, “Even for a dodgy dogfighting place, I expected better than this.” He placed the pages back down on the counter, “But I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

Sam started to go over the pages, and in his distraction missed his brother leaving the room. Realising him missing, Sam called out “Hey! Dean?”

Dean poked his head around the door, “Yeah?”

“What are you doing? You’re not going in to see the Omega, are you? Just leave him be, he’ll hopefully sleep until morning.”

“What? No, I was just going to the living room to watch some TV, give you some space while you look over the paperwork.”

“Fine, and Dean I’ll be able to hear if that spare room door opens.” Sam threatened but Dean blew him off with a ‘yeah whatever’ under his breath. Sam rolled his eyes. God Dean was insufferable and Sam was having a very hard time not unleashing the entirety of his anger onto him. Inhaling deeply, he focused himself and got to work.

Looking over the paperwork Dean has supplied him, Sam scanned what little information that was given. Attempting to piece together the Omega puzzle, next he took in the fight sheet. Dozens upon dozens of fights were listed, where he noticed the numbers in the margins, some fights had been missed out. Fight 7 jumping to fight 15. Sam’s stomach dropped as the last number was 156. He must have been a good fighter to last that long. Though the last fight date was dated six months before Dean had bought him.

What was weird though, the first three fights confirmed Castiel as the losing dog, but the rest there wasn’t a confirmation of a winner or a loser. There were just the dogs Castiel was up against and that Castiel had fought them. Sam reasoned that maybe Castiel had lost them all, but then why would they keep him competing? Surely they wouldn’t use him if he kept losing? Particularly if bets were being placed. The lackeys would have caught on just a few fights in, meaning the organisers would be losing money each fight, which is something they would not have entertained.

Something awful shrouded over Sam. His instinct whirring to life like the starting sparks and embers of a roaring fire. Shuffling through what was left of the torn-up paperwork, Sam read every word aloud, the ones that were undistinguishable, he supplied the context surrounding the text and deciphered it.

Sam’s eyes were drawn to a handwritten note at the bottom of the page: ‘Dog #132 – not matured, doesn’t respond to training, weak due to disability… Disability? The rest of the text, occupying the ripped-off piece, had disappeared. Denying Sam any more knowledge, unyielding in his discovery for information.

Thinking back to the sight of the Omega, Sam hesitated on trying to deduce a disability just on looks or his own judgement alone, finding it impolite. But from what he had seen, though badly beaten, the Omega didn’t seem to be physically disabled, perhaps it was mental condition?

Returning his thoughts and attention to the paperwork, knowing he must have missed something, he poured himself over the words. There had to be something in there which would suggest something or give him the insight to anything.

Going over the fight records again, Sam tried to work out why they lacked any real fight information, when he noticed what he had first thought was a scribbled line, was in fact someone’s handwritten words. Squinting to make out the small text, Sam could just about make it out. After the third losing fight: ‘Male Omega/Fight Dog’ was scratched out, and beside it written…

Sam was livid, eyes widening at what he was reading, the realisation overwhelming and the lack of a fight record now making sense. Castiel wasn’t a fighter, he was the bait dog. 

Castiel was a deaf bait dog.


	13. Resistance of Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huge delay! Here's a shorter chapter to get back into the swing of things.

Bursting into the room, Sam thundered towards Dean to land a solid punch square on his jaw, sending his brother sprawling onto the ground. Rubbing his jaw and glaring at Sam accusingly from his position on the floor, Dean glowered, “What the fuck Sam!”

Rising up, Dean squared himself to Sam and shoved his shoulders with both of his hands. Sam went fluidly with the motion, fully expecting the retaliation. “That dog in there? That ‘stupid’ Omega pet you’ve been torturing for the past couple of weeks is not a fight dog. If you had actually paid attention to his paperwork at the place you got him from, you would have realised that he was a bait dog, and a deaf one at that.”

Dean eye’s held his fury, but his face had slackened from his confusion, “What?”

“Castiel wasn’t a fighter he was used as a bait dog.” Sam’s voice remained louder than needed, though venting through volume helped to control the steaming anger he wanted to direct towards his brother.

“What the fuck is a bait dog?” Dean countered back. 

“A bait dog is a young, weak or inexperienced dog that is used to teach other dogs how to fight. And by teach, I mean they’re left defenseless and chained up against a stronger dog that has been trained to rip them apart.”

Losing patience with his brother’s lack of understanding, Sam shoved the papers in front of his face. “Dean, look here… ‘Male Omega Bait Dog (deaf). He’s deaf Dean, he couldn’t respond to their training, he couldn’t be a fighter so they used him as bait.”

Dean was shaking his head, frowning “No, that’s not right. That can’t be! He isn’t deaf Sam, just incredibly stubborn! They said nothing about him being deaf, that place said he was a fighter, that he was unruly and would need discipline.”

Sam scoffed, “Oh right, because the illegal underground dog fighting establishment is known for telling the truth? Come on Dean, you have to be smart here.”

Dean’s face drained of its colour. Pale, he had to take a seat.

“Look Dean, it’s all here in the paperwork.”

Dean’s stomach dropped as Sam echoed that smug bastard Crowley’s words before he settled the payment, “Everything you need to know is in the paperwork.” Dean felt incredibly foolish, he had been swindled with the truth right god damn in front of him. God he was so stupid. 

Taking the papers waved in his face gingerly, Dean still applied a defensive stance, insecure and embarrassed. “What the fuck am I even looking at?”

Sam proceeded to point out the information he had discovered. “You said the Omega never listened to you, never followed your commands? He wasn’t being disobedient Dean, he simply couldn’t hear you.”

“But sometimes he would though! The other day Benny got him to kneel with a verbal command! And, and he’d respond to his name!”

“Think about it Dean, did he kneel just by verbal commands alone? Could he respond without the guide of a choke collar or any physical involvement? And was he responding to his name or just sensing your approach?”

Dean was assaulted with flashes of moments between himself and Castiel. Things were starting to make sense. Why the Omega didn’t ever listen to him, why he didn’t follow commands, why sometimes he would jump when Dean came into view even though he made his presence known by calling to him. Oh God, oh fuck!

Dean was frozen to the spot, mind battling between accepting the information or denying it. Denial was his usual reaction and he was desperate to ignore the pain that was beginning to churn inside of him. Desperate to direct his mind onto something else, he allowed himself to become agitated by Sam’s pacing. “Would you stop that!”

Unaware of Dean's inner turmoil, and believing his agitation towards his pacing to be the dominating factor for Dean's upset, Sam stopped and put all of his energy into once again rounding on his brother. Rolling hard punch after punch until he grew breathless. “You! You idiot, you fucking stupid moron! How could you have done this? You’re a monster for what you’ve done. You don't deserve anything, you're a terrible person for this! That should be you beaten and broken in there, not the Omega! It should be you! You're a worthless piece of shit Dean, and I hope you suffer for what you've done.”

Sam expected some fight back and was prepared to grapple and struggle, however, Dean allowed the punches to come with no resistance, something that surprised Sam but something he also saw as a long deserved opportunity. He wasn’t usually one for violence, but hell it was satisfying venting his anger by pummelling his older brother. The dull thuds and smacks of fist against face echoed around the room. And after the thorough beating, as the red haze cleared from behind his eyes, so did Sam’s vision. At some point the brothers had found themselves on the floor, Sam overpowering Dean in a rare display of physical dominance. Breathing heavily, Sam looked down at his brother, feeling lighter though still feeling deep resentment. “I’m disappointed in you Dean. I can't even bring myself to acknowledge you as my brother.”

Dean had the decency to look ashamed, his downcast eyes already starting to swell and bruise. Though he gave no verbal response, just tightened his jaw as he looked away from the burning judgement in the eyes of his brother. Sam finally rolled off and stood over him, giving Dean one final glare before collapsing onto the sofa, cradling his fist gently and feeling the need for a stiff drink. 

The air in the room was thick with tension, only the sounds of deep breathing audible. It took Dean a while to come back to himself. Laying there, on the floor, the realisation of what had just happened started to filter his senses. The usual numbing and detachment of his psyche wasn’t happening and allowing his escape. Instead he was left there, feeling, actually feeling. Though the throbbing of his beaten face was a nice distraction from the feelings stirring deeply inside, it still wasn’t something he liked, it wasn’t something he was used to. Getting to his feet clumsily, Dean sought after a bottle, however instead Dean found himself stumbling to the spare room where Sam had bundled the Omega up in bed. Dean was devastated, actually devastated didn’t even cut it. He was awash with just how evil he had acted. Oh God this poor Omega, how terrified he must have been with no way to communicate. No wonder he didn’t speak, it was because he couldn’t.

Dean lingered at the threshold of the room, unable to take a step closer. From the door, the Omega wrapped up in quilts and blankets didn’t look frightening, didn’t look violent, nor did he look like a threat. Castiel the Omega, looked fragile, tiny and broken. He was an Omega Dean had so cruelly treated just because he was so unbelievably stupid. How could he not have seen the truth? How did he not work out the Omega was deaf? 

Sam brushed past him a little too forcibly as he entered the room, turning with a face that clearly told Dean not to follow him further in. Sitting beside Castiel, Sam gently turned him to check his back, and was disappointed to see the wounds on his back were weeping and had started to soak through the bandages. “Shit, oh shit!” Hand to the Omega’s forehead also suggested his fever wasn’t going down either.

“Dean this isn’t good. He’s still burning up and his wounds are weeping. We need help, we need someone.”

Dean winced at the sight of the Omega's back, triggering the shame of his behaviour to sound loudly inside of him. Looking away, he hated to say what he really thought. “Sam it’s late, no one will be around.”

Sam interrupted Dean’s personal space to grab his shirt and yank it towards him. “You did this, so you undo it, stupid jerk. I’m not even sure Castiel will survive the night without proper care. There has to be someone that can help there has to! I don’t care where you find them Dean, but you do it, you do it now.”

Dean brought up both of his arms to strike down on Sam’s wrists and to detach him from his shirt. Falling back into a defensive stance, Dean bit back, “What’s with this heroic saviour act, huh? I know you only came here looking for some pity project to fixate on, but now instead of me it’s for some Omega you’ve never met. You’re just going the long way round to find a hole to knot Sam. If you want him just fucking take him. No need to prove anything, there's no point in acting like the big man here.” Dean’s possessiveness and jealously was taking over and speaking for itself. Though he didn’t really mean those words, he still felt like Sam was intruding on something, though he didn’t know exactly what it was.

Sam squinted his eyes menacingly, but immediately shut Dean down by turning his back to him, finding any physical or verbal fighting useless right now, particularly with Castiel in the room.

Any response from Sam coming to a halt completely distinguished Dean’s anger. Disarmed of his rage by the view of his younger brother’s back, Dean sulked out of the room, this time with the intention of somehow finding an Omega Vet that could help with this situation at this time of night. Where on earth was he going to find someone to help? Who would even want to help? Already starting to collapse under the weight of his guilt, Dean slunk off to the kitchen to find something to drown himself in, believing that the only way he could help was to get out the way entirely.

Sam was surprised by the reaction of his brother; expecting something more fiery than anything else. Even a physical retaliation was to be expected and again Dean surprised him by allowing the assault. Though full of surprises this evening, Sam still held out that Dean wouldn’t be fully co-operative, so was right in his thinking to find an available late night Vet himself.

Five minutes after 2am, a light knock sounded on the front door. So light in fact, that Sam was sure if there was no deafening silence he had been swallowed in for the past couple of hours, he would have missed it. The knocking was a welcome sound. Calling out to Dean to alert him of the arrival of a visitor, Sam wasn’t surprised by the silent reply and by the apparent disappearing act Dean had pulled. Idiot had probably holed himself up in his room with a few bottles; his usual way of dealing with difficult things. Dean had been a no show since he left Sam alone earlier that evening so undoubtedly wouldn’t show himself now.

Opening the door revealed a chirpy looking red head, all bright eyed and bushy tailed as she signalled hello with a smile and a wave. “Hey, somebody called about a sick Omega?”

Sam let out a sigh and deflated with relief, “Hey yes that was me, I’m Sam.” Sam was solemn as he invited the girl, a Beta, inside but was immediate with his gratitude. “Thank you so much for coming out at this time, I can’t thank you enough!”

“It’s no problem! I’m pretty much a night owl, why I work nights. Name’s Charlie.”

“Right, well thanks!”

Stepping into the entry way, Charlie gave a quick scan of the room before turning back to Sam expectantly. “Maybe show me where the Omega is and you can thank me then?

“Well sure, he’s right through here.” Sam pointed down the hall.

Sam led the way as Charlie trailed behind him, curious and slightly excited about the job that followed. She was someone who lived and breathed her work, and an opportunity to help another was something she relished.

“He’s in here.” Sam opened the spare room door, currently housing the sick Omega, and allowed Charlie to enter first, following in and shutting the door behind him.

Charlie, bright and bubbly on first appearance, dropped her face in seriousness as she regarded the Omega in front of her. “Tell me about him, what happened?”

No wonder Dean was too cowardly to show his face. “I found him like this yesterday. He was badly beaten, whipped actually, and had a fever. I’m not exactly sure where he came from as he hasn’t been conscious in the time I’ve dealt with him. I just know he’s badly injured.” It wasn’t the total truth, but it was enough.

“Whipped?” Charlie kept professional but it with how her eyes widened at that, it was clear she was upset. “What’s his name please?”

“Castiel.”

“Okay Castiel, I just need to check you temperature, I will be using a thermometer to do that okay?” Charlie found it important to comfort her patients, so always spoke out loud to address them. Whether they were conscious or not, it was still her custom.

Sam watched on as Charlie spoke to Castiel and told him her intentions and actions, it was calming.

“Castiel I’m going to place the thermometer on your tongue okay? It might feel a little cold but it won’t be painful.”

Stroking back his hair, Charlie gently opened Castiel’s slack mouth to place the thermometer onto his tongue. Holding it there for a moment, Charlie took it out to read the high temperature of 100.4F. 

“His temperature is over 100 degrees, I need to administer Acetaminophen, it’s a stronger form of paracetamol that helps combat high fevers.”

His worry instantly amplified, Sam question her, “Do you have that with you? Please tell me you do!”

“Well I wouldn’t be a very good Vet now if I didn’t carry everything I needed with me!” Rummaging through her medical bag, Charlie pulled out a small case, and upon opening revealed a line of three syringes, all filled with the appropriate medication. “Okay Castiel, I will be injecting you with acetaminophen, it’s going to help with your fever, okay?”

Charlie would pause after every time she spoke, as though waiting for Castiel to answer, or at least giving him a chance to understand. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to cause you any more pain, but the injection will be a slight scratch okay? I promise it’ll only be for a second.”

Charlie first pulled out a sealed bag containing latex gloves, opened it and delicately pulled them out to snap them both onto her hands. She next retrieved a small bottle of alcohol to swab onto a cotton pad, wiping it down on a spot on Castiel’s arm to disinfect the skin, all the while explaining to Castiel what she was doing. Taking a moment to let the disinfectant seep into the skin, Charlie plucked out the first syringe from where it was nestled inside the case, placed the needle into the skin with practiced precision and with slight pressure from her thumb, pushed down, forcing the fluid into Castiel’s body through the hole in his arm. “There all done, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

Removing the needle and disposing of it in a bag of hazardous materials she also carried around with her, she inspected the needle hole, happy to see minimal bleeding, and placed a plaster on the scratch. As she worked, something important occurred to her. A detail she had initially missed. A detail that had her realising that she may possibly be in some sort of danger. Finding courage as she fingered the concealed can of pepper spray in her pocket, she spoke out her concerns. 

“You said you found Castiel yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“And that this is your first time dealing with him?”

“Yeah that’s right.”

“And he hasn’t been conscious the entire time you’ve dealt with him?”

“Yeah?..” Sam was starting to grow anxious with the cross examination of questions, feeling as though the Vet was instead his opposition in a courtroom.

“So, if he's been unconscious this entire time, how could you possibly know his name?” Charlie gave him a knowing look, though there was a hint of worry behind her eyes.

Sam gaped at Charlie before recovering, only to stumble out a response, “Um…uh… It was on the collar he was wearing.”

Charlie was well aware of the lateness of night, and she was also well aware she was alone, in a house with a huge and potentially dangerous Alpha. Thinking quickly, she decided to show her strength. “Hmmm, okay, let me put it this way. I know bullshit when I see it, and you’re clearly lying to me. And as a Vet in Omega care I have every right to call in any abusive Ownership I see. I may not be able to remove Castiel from your property myself but I will report you and call in people who can. My team know exactly where I am, and they know how long this appointment will be. I am expected back so if you try anything there will be trouble for you, understand?”

Sam stood quickly “No, no! Okay, fine you’re right, I’m lying! BUT! I’m not abusive and Castiel isn’t my Omega. He’s my brothers and he’s the one responsible for the injuries.” Sam let out a loud exhale as he removed the confession from his chest.

Charlie at first introductions seemed to be a sweet Beta of delight, but right now she was scary in the way she was glaring at Sam, trying to find out if he was actually telling her the truth. Charlie wasn't yet ready to show how nervous she felt, still unsure of the situation. Especially that no one actually knew she was there and there was no team expecting her back; it was just her.

“Well then, where is this brother of yours? You seem to be the only person here.”

“He’s hiding from you.”

Charlie’s attempt at good cop bad cop dissolved with a laugh, “Hiding? From me?”

“Yeah, he’s a total coward, doesn’t like to face the consequences of his actions.”

With how honest Sam was being, Charlie couldn’t help but soften her rigid attack on the man. “And you’re left to put the pieces back together?”

“I came here because I was worried, and yesterday found Castiel out in the barn, injured.”

Charlie’s face thundered over as her jaw locked tightly and she gritted out, “The Omega was kept out in the Barn?”

Sam looked sheepish as he ducked his head. That was enough for Charlie to remove herself from the conversation and to start checking over Castiel. Gently placing her hands on Castiel’s shoulders, Charlie mentally noted how frail he was. Turning him more onto his side to get a better look of his back. “Did you bandage him?”

“Yeah, a few hours ago but the wounds are already weeping through.”

Charlie carefully traced the stained bandages with her fingers, already dreading what she would find beneath them. “I’m impressed with the wrapping, you did a decent job.”

“I wasn’t really sure of the best way to do it, but just figured it needed to be tightly wrapped, common sense.”

“Unfortunately I need to undo your handy work, as I need to check the wounds for infection.”

Charlie couldn’t hold in the gasp once the final bandages were unravelled from Castiel’s back. She was a true professional, able to keep the necessary stony exterior when dealing with trauma or injury yet the sight of this Omega’s back was enough to threaten tears. Taking a moment to reel herself in and to not allow her emotions get in the way of her work; she centred herself with a deep breath and continued her examination.

Pressing around the edges of the deep lines, Charlie noted how mottled the skin was, with streaks and spots of different bruising and colours; marbled in appearance. “Welts heal faster than bruises, so bear in mind his back will get a lot worse before it gets better.”

Sam only nodded, eyes focused on Charlie’s hands working over the Omega’s back.

“If you don’t mind, you need to fill me in on what you know.”

“Unfortunately what I know isn’t a lot, like I said I got here yesterday.”

“Well, has your brother spoken to you about Castiel?”

“First time he mentioned him was a few nights ago, and I do know he’s had him for about three or four weeks.”

“Four weeks chained up in a Barn? You can imagine in my line of work I’ve seen some shocking things. How Omega’s are treated and how they’re viewed as lesser’s. However, I can’t say I’ve been involved with many cases of Omega’s being left outside to freeze.” Charlie’s words hung heavy in the air. The gravity of the situation was finally settling around them, as Charlie steeled her gaze onto Sam, “I need to know exactly what happened. I need to speak with your brother.”

“Dean? Dean?” Sam bee lined for the bedroom of his brother, not bothering to check other rooms as even after all this time he still knew the behaviours of Dean to a fault. Of course he was holed up in his bedroom hiding away. Though he just hoped he hadn’t made too much progress with the bottle. His brother needed to be coherent for his next part, and as the impression he’d already made on the Vet wasn’t a great one, he needed to clean up his act.

Staggered to find the door unlocked, Sam walked through and approached his brother who was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Sam noted the bottle of Whiskey on the nightstand.

“How’s the bottle?”

Dean grumbled out a “Half empty.”

Looking down, Sam noticed the two other bottles on the floor, "Yeah this one is." Not sparing any feelings, Sam didn’t hesitate to get down to it. “The Vet Charlie, she wants to speak with you.”

Dean grimaced and turned his head away, seeking comfort by pushing his face into the crook of his arm. “Do I really have to?”

“Dean! Did you really think you could avoid this?”

Dean peaked an eye up at his brother, “Yeah, I did.”

“Dean are you really that much of a coward? Of all the pain you’ve caused you don’t even have the decency to show up and help? Really? How pathetic. And I didn’t think it possible for you to steep any lower.”

Those words stirred something deep and uncomfortable inside Dean, jostling him out of his stewing depression. Mumbling into his arm, he spoke up. “I just can’t do it, I’m ashamed.”

Sam felt a flash of sympathy before narrowing his eyes, using his skill with words to hopefully get a decent result from the situation. “Instead of wallowing here in your shame Dean, why don’t you come down and speak with the Vet. You have the chance to do some real good here Dean. You have the chance to help that Omega you hurt. Now, is there any shame in that? Is there any shame in speaking to the kind Vet? Is there any shame in helping out? Is there any shame in doing the good thing, the right thing? All she wants is to help Castiel, and she needs your help as well. She needs you to help her to help Castiel. So, can you do that? Can you help?”

Dean gave no response, and for a moment Sam believed the wall Dean had built around himself was now too thick to penetrate. As he stood to leave, he caught the small murmur from his brother, “Okay.”

Sam smiled, “Thank you Dean. I’ll see you downstairs.”


End file.
